Through A Glass Darkly
by Rambunctious Penguin
Summary: A starmap inside a mysterious holocron leads Kanan and Ezra into a trap. After Kanan is tricked into opening a pathway to his past, the Ghost crew are forced to track an Inquisitor back to the last days of the Republic, and find themselves both trying to protect a young Caleb Dume and prevent the assassination of Obi-Wan Kenobi as he races to warn the surviving Jedi away.
1. Chapter 1: Nerf Herders

_A.N: This is set midway in Season 1, with Ezra aged about fourteen, before he gains his lightsaber. I have drawn from the Kanan comics (or rather, summaries of the first couple, since I still need to rectify not owning them!) and a little bit from_ A New Dawn _. Caleb is mentioned as being thirteen when he's tapped as Depa Billaba's padawan, five months before the fall of the Temple on Coruscant, and fourteen during Order 66, deployed on General Billaba's Kaller campaign._

… _._

 **Chapter 1** , _hyperspace_.

The _Phantom_ sped through hyperspace, the twisting matter outside the shuttle's windows casting a silvery grey glow into the cockpit. Inside, most unusually for this particular point in galactic history, two Jedi sat. At least, one Jedi and his still fairly new padawan.

Ezra Bridger inspected the two holocrons he was holding once again. While not so long ago, he would have spent the trip staring out of the window as the ship rapidly traversed impossible distances, but the past few months in space had allowed the novelty to wear off. Besides, there was still some novelty in mulling over the mystery of the second holocron.

Unlike Kanan's long-kept relic from the last days of the Jedi Order, this one had been out in the elements for a while and despite assiduous polishing from the young padawan, remained cracked and dusty. A corner was chipped off and ground in particles of dirt speckled the surface and clung to the fine engravings. This one had been found on Lothal itself, perhaps from a lost or hidden Jedi temple, perhaps just a last remainder of a lost Jedi. It had found its way to the pair through a friendly trader who blandly insisted on calling it "fine art from a lost age". Kanan had commented on the way back that it was one of the nicer euphemisms for "highly illegal subversive contraband" (the description the Empire would have for it) that he'd heard.

After fifteen years, and given Jedi holocrons were hardly common outside very specific situations, it wasn't surprising that most people didn't know what they were looking at anymore. Such holocrons, along with other items associated with the Jedi, had been destroyed whenever they were found. There probably weren't that many left at all now. What made this one particularly interesting, however, was that it contained a star map.

Ezra turned the holocron over in his hands again and then took a deep breath and released it, focussing intently on it. Kanan glanced over and tried not to smile at Ezra's absorbed squint. Still fairly small and slight for his age with blue-black hair flopping loosely and blue eyes that his face hadn't entirely grown into yet, the ferocious squint of concentration gave him the look of every student throughout the ages confronted with a task that they knew they could do but still weren't exactly sure how. He turned his focus back to the path ahead, even if once in hyperspace, the ship was doing all the work, and let his own breathing settle into a slower and deeper rhythm, as if to meditate himself. The subliminal prompt gradually worked as Ezra unconsciously picked up the same rhythm and started to relax. That Ezra was inclined to push didn't worry Kanan much at the moment. It was what Padawans did. Whether due to enthusiasm or impatience, it took time to reach acceptance of the Force rather than trying to push it.

It took some time, mostly for Ezra to fully settle, before Kanan heard the faint clicks of the holocron opening. Actually, they were rather louder and more grinding than his own, grains of dust and sand grating between the pieces. The star-map shimmered blue above the aperture, the glow of hyperspace giving it an eerie added brightness. Ezra scanned over it again, finding the one that Kanan had felt was out of place.

"Is this the only one?" he asked suddenly, glancing over. This was continuing an earlier conversation, so Kanan wasn't thrown by the apparent non-sequitor.

"I think so. It's been a long time since I saw – or had to draw – a star map of the temples. That one doesn't appear on any of the usual charts. Or any chart I ever saw. But there is a planet there."

Ezra eyed over the expanse of pinpricks through the holographic representation of the galaxy. He wasn't convinced Kanan could possibly remember all of them by now. On the other hand, he wouldn't bet against it either. And of the _Ghost's_ crew, and despite his reputation for unlikely (albeit usually mostly effective) plans, he was one of the more conservative when it came to running off over the galaxy on potential wild bantha chases. So while Ezra had been all for exploring a lost Jedi temple, that Kanan had seemed equally interested was the less expected result.

As it happened, Kanan had a few reasons for being interested in this trip. Firstly, there was the possibility, however remote, that there really was a lost Jedi temple on this Outer Rim planet. If so, it had been lost for eons, as there had been no settlement on Belior II since the heyday of the Old Republic. If that was the case, there might still be something there. What, Kanan wasn't so sure. Jedi lore and wisdom he hoped. He could use it if so. Anything to help him teach Ezra. He knew Ezra was talented and had high potential. He also knew that this was as much a curse as a blessing with an inexperienced teacher with no back-up. And, of course, the ever-looming threat of the Empire. The more powerful and more to the point, the more of a _Jedi_ Ezra became, the more of a target he would be for the Imperials.

It was a fine balance between teaching him what he needed to know to be a Jedi and training him in what he'd need to stay alive. Especially in this war against the Empire.

Kanan frowned, and without noticing, his breathing left the soothing pattern. Hera, he knew, thought of it more as a war. He'd preferred to think of it as strikes against the Empire. Skirting around the edges, dealing stings. Not a war, squaring up to the Empire head-on.

… _._

 _"Well, my little strategist, your wish is about to be granted," said Depa Billaba, surprising her young padawan out of his meditative state. She gave him a look that would have been disapproving had it not been for the amused glimmer in her eyes at his lack of focus. Caleb ran through the potential next few moments of light-hearted protest and counter-protest and decided he was more curious about what she meant. He looked at her questioningly, straightening up. "Master Billaba?"_

 _She knelt down beside him, adopting the meditative stance with unconscious ease. "We two are deploying to the Republic forces retaking the Outer Rim planets from the Separatist hold-outs."_

 _Caleb was stunned for a moment. He knew that Master Billaba could be redeployed to the front lines again – she was now fully recovered from the injury that had kept her on Coruscant. But he had been all too aware that at fourteen this month, he probably wasn't going to get to see much of the war. The Separatists were on the back foot and being pushed to the edges of the galaxy. His eyes brightened as he realised he was finally going to get to take part in what he'd mostly studied and analysed so far._

… _._

Kanan blinked, realising Ezra had spoken. He spared a moment to tell the receding image of the boy that he had an eye-opener coming before trying to remember what Ezra had said.

"Sorry Ezra, I was parsecs away. What was that?"

"I was asking when Empire Day was. I know it's around now." He had let the holocron close again and Kanan belatedly wondered how long he had been wandering the past. Although that was the thing, wasn't it. While a far less important reason, it had certainly factored into his interest in going _now_ that the _Ghost_ was making a delivery on a heavily populated planet the day before Empire Day and that was a combination Kanan could do without. Hera hadn't put up any argument at all. It was a routine job and she was aware from long experience that Kanan didn't deal well with Empire Day. While his drinking hadn't been a problem for several years now, she was fine with him not being on a planet full of cantinas for it. Zeb had not been a particularly calming influence on those occasions, but particularly after Sabine joined the crew, he had taken more to retreating to his cabin for those couple of days.

"Tomorrow." Actually, Hera was wrong. It wasn't Empire Day that had set off his need to drown demons and braincells in alcohol. It was the day before, the last day of the Separatist conflict. He exhaled and sternly told himself to get back to the present. It was a small shuttle. Dark moods spread easily. And-

"You're fifteen tomorrow. Empire Day?" He glanced over again, remembering now that Ezra had been born the day the Empire was declared. Ezra perked up.

"Tomorrow? Wasn't sure if I'd missed it and had been fifteen already."

Kanan's lip quirked in a smile. "Hera wouldn't let you miss it. Although you might not be on the _Ghost_ for it."

Ezra grinned. "But in the meantime, we're finding a lost, ancient Jedi temple, so that's a pretty good birthday."

 _When he put it like that…_ Kanan grinned in response, pushing away the thoughts that even he had to admit were bordering on moping. He glanced down at the console.

"Exiting hyperspace in five minutes," he informed him and Ezra strapped his harness securely in preparation for the drop back into what Ezra was still inclined to think of as "the real galaxy", thousands of parsecs from where they'd been when they started. He tucked the holocrons away. This moment still had novelty too.

….

 _Ghost_

The ship seemed both quieter and emptier without two of the crew on board. Although, Hera thought, looking down into Ghost's cargo bay with a sigh for the cleaning that would be needed, the ship was definitely quieter and emptier without the herd of incredibly smelly nerfs that they'd delivered to a friendly settlement; a large farming community in urgent need of a replacement herd.

"I'm vetoing any more livestock," came a grumpy voice behind her and to the right. She looked over to where Zeb was standing with a shovel, glaring disconsolately at the mess below.

"They could have warned me that nerfs don't deal well with dropping out of hyperspace," she responded with resigned indignation. They'd certainly smelled the results as what appeared to be the entire herd had copiously baptised the cargo bay in unison as the _Ghost_ had exited to normal space near the planet's outer ring. Opening the cargo bay door when they landed had resulted in a waterfall that neither Zeb nor Sabine had escaped.

Now there was a sloshing mulch of trampled bedding left to deal with, mixed with matted fur and liquidated dung.

"No wonder Kanan and Ezra took their Jedi mission," grumbled Zeb, placing a hand on the railing to vault over and landing with a squelch in the mess. Hera sighed and followed. It was going to take hours to clear all this up. And the stench was impregnating the entire ship, all the way up to the cockpit.

….

As it happened, there wasn't much time for sightseeing, or even doing more than a basic supply run to the nearest city. The cargo bay took several hours to get it presentable and it was another hour or so again until the smell inside Ghost was bearable for a spaceflight. Hera, Zeb and Sabine slumped into their seats when they finally took them again after turns in the refresher.

"Never again," sighed Hera.

"Agreed," seconded Sabine, flicking a few strands of damp lilac hair out of her eyes. Zeb grunted, making it unanimous. Or nearly so, as a few whistles in binary made it clear that Chopper had found it all very amusing.

"I think I can still smell it," mumbled Sabine, resting her elbows on her knees and dropping her face into her palms. "It's implanted in my nose."

Chopper indicated that what the organics' sensory arrays were detecting and improperly interpreting was merely damp Lasat, which was considered an unpleasant smell in forty three systems and an aphrodisiac in exactly one. Chopper could sometimes be inclined to go to great lengths for an insult. It said something for Zeb's general lack of interest in moving that Chopper only suffered a growl and a side-eye that would have intimidated anything that wasn't a psychotic droid.

"On the bright side, we got the herd to Pelosia. And these ones are inoculated against the tseng fever," Hera pointed out, sitting up more in her seat. "I'm not doing it again without good reason but…this was good reason."

Sabine smiled in agreement. She was usually willing to be brought around by the knowledge they'd made things a bit better. Zeb just grunted, but Hera was willing to bet he wasn't entirely disgruntled about the situation.

 _Ghost_ lifted from Perosia's surface with a puff of brown dust that blew out in wide circles from the vents, encouraging people to keep some distance, and then shot upwards and forwards, rising through the clouds towards the upper atmosphere. Leaving nerf herds far behind, where they would always remain if Hera had anything to say about it.

As she soared through the atmosphere, Hera was content and awake again, taking her last look at the planet below. She likely wouldn't be back. Pelosia was an odd little world. Barely bigger than a large moon, some collision eons before had smashed debris and rock from it out into the atmosphere where it had joined an eddy of similar debris circling the planet. The atmospheric rock armour made the planet uninviting to casual passers-by. It also made it uninviting to trade routes, and when a sickness had run through the Pelosian herd, getting a replacement had been paramount to the deeply-independent community. And it needed a ship large enough to transport them in the hands of a pilot skilled enough to make the run. The distance between having to drop out of hyperspace and actually getting to the planet through the tortuous route added on hours. In this case, that had meant hours of noisome cattle.

"No wonder Kanan and Ezra went off chasing Jedi stuff. I wonder if they saw this coming in their meditations," grumbled Sabine. Hera banked Ghost around a slowly spinning rock easily the size of an Imperial compound and then made another adjustment to avoid the small debris being sucked along in its wake.

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking. Could have used them. Although the kid's still so short he'd have drowned in the cargo bay," pointed out Zeb. Chopper beeped again from his post at one of the interface units.

"Be nice, Chop," Hera told him absently as she focussed on her task.

It was clearing ahead. She was through the worst of the first cluster. She nosed _Ghost_ out into the void and breathed a sigh of relief. Clear for a few minutes and then the second cluster. She laid in a course based on the known safe route. But she'd need to stay at the helm for manual adjustments. The asteroids didn't exactly stay in one place.

Despite what would have been a hairy journey to most people, neither Sabine nor Zeb were remotely concerned about the flying rocks, some of which could have engulfed _Ghost_ wholesale. Both were strongly of the opinion that Hera was probably the best pilot in the galaxy and she'd backed up their faith in her skills more times than either could easily remember.

"Still think it's very convenient that a lost Jedi holocron just happened to end up with a friendly trader with links to a rebel group that contains two Jedi," said Zeb, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest.

"It could just be co-incidence. Kora-hee's never been a problem to us before. He certainly wouldn't deliberately have passed on something dangerous without a warning."

"Mhrr…well, he might be, but we don't know anything about it from before that." Zeb was unwilling to let it go. He didn't really trust the weird stuff that tended to happen when the Force stirred itself around the two Jedi. Who, of course, attracted that weird stuff from parsecs away.

"Kanan didn't seem too concerned," Hera pointed out. "He didn't get any alarms or sirens from it." Not that she was entirely sure as to how that worked. She was still getting accustomed to Kanan openly being a Jedi again. She was aware he was too.

Hera couldn't have explained how she felt something was suddenly _wrong_. Those instincts had developed in flight and battle over years. Ghost was giving no alerts. There was nothing on the screen. But just as she, for no apparent reason, suddenly banked the ship and corkscrewed between two stray asteroids rather than go around, a laser spat out and struck the one to her left. _Ghost_ squeezed out from between them as the impact span the two asteroids together, rock grinding against rock, but fortunately not against metal. There were two surprised yelps and some binary swearing.

"Chopper, shields!" she said sharply. "Sabine, Zeb, turrets. We have company and I don't think they want to buy nerfs."

Now she could see it, a blip on the screen. Damn them, whoever it was, they had been cloaked and waiting for her exit. Who in the _kriffing_ hells…

An Imperial TIE-fighter streaked towards them, its dark colouring and silvery glints giving good camouflage against the depths of space. Hera turned sharply and set her course towards the Tie, but on a lower plane, aiming to dart under him and gain enough time and distance to get her speed up. The TIE raked past the Ghost with laser-fire, but the shields held firm. Now her own turrets were spitting blasts back at the Tie, colourful flashes speeding towards the black fighter that dodged them with casual ease. Hera frowned. This wasn't an ordinary Imperial pilot. Not on his own. Not in that – and she could see now that this wasn't an ordinary run-of-the-mill TIE either. And not when he could dodge like that.

The TIE shot forward again, and Hera found herself in a dogfight with it. Both ships danced around each other, trying to get a shot lined up without being left vulnerable to a faster counter. None of the shots were hitting now, both pilots superb evasive fliers.

 _I'll get you yet_ , thought Hera, lost in a flying trance where nothing existed but her ship and what it was telling her, and the enemy ship. She broke off and shot for the asteroid belt. The TIE was nimble and straight-for-straight, probably faster than _Ghost_. But she'd just flown this belt twice.

"Chop, magnetise the outer hull."

Chopper beeped in alarm, but in a measure to his general trust of Hera, he connected to the interface outlet again and started making the adjustments, pointing out in a low grumbling commentary that this wasn't exactly a sensible idea when flying through this sort of rock forest.

Plenty of ships had met their fate in the asteroid belt. It was a known smugglers' run, or had been once before smugglers had mostly decided that the higher risk of Empire on other planets might still outweigh the strong likelihood of being crushed to atoms getting to this one. As Hera looped Ghost around the asteroids, the magnetic pull drew in debris, bits of long-dead vessels sluggishly shifted after her. She had to be careful with this. The last thing she wanted to do was destabilise the asteroid belt and cut off one of the few safe routes through it.

::" _Spectre 5 to Spectre 2, not sighting the Tie_ ," reported Sabine as the firing from above stopped.

 _::"He's waiting out there. We're bringing him a present,_ " replied Hera with a grim smile. _Ghost_ weaved through the rock, and as she neared the edge of the belt, she saw him.

 _::"Get his attention up there,"_ she warned into the comm., holding the ship steady in her path as she waited for the TIE to spot her. _Ghost_ flirted with the smaller ship, luring him in with a – well-placed laser shot to the wing, she noted.

 _::"Good job, his wing's hit,"_ she said, hands ghosting over the controls as she waited for his turn. He turned on the spot – it had been a good hit, but it hadn't done much damage, she saw. Now the TIE was screaming towards her and she saw her opening. She gunned it, _Ghost_ shooting out of the belt's leading edge, trailing debris behind her. It looked like the pair were going to collide to the destruction of both, lasers spitting around each other. But Hera was an old hand at space chicken and kept her course until the last possible moment. The TIE didn't lose its nerve either and it might well be down to chance as to whether they both banked the same direction or not. Seconds before collision, Hera span the ship almost broadside to his right, a move that must have looked suicidal before she barked. "Chopper, release the magnetic field!"

Chopper shut it down, the magnetic currents fizzling away from the hull. Hera's proximity had caught the smaller TIE and slowed it as it fought against the steady pull to twist left out of their path. Suddenly loosed again, it shot forward – right into the debris that span past Hera's ship, released from its bonds and following the momentum her sharp bank had given it.

Hera could have sworn that no pilot could have escaped that in the tiny bubble ship. Well, just maybe she could have. But definitely no buckethead. Still, that was what the tiny fighter was doing, ducking and dodging between the debris as sharp metal span around him. Sabine and Zeb were focussing fire, but he was somehow dodging that as well.

"This isn't some Imperial," said Hera grimly into the comm as she completed her manoeuvre and turned back to fire on the TIE too from the helm. "I think we're dealing with an Inquisitor."

And that was when the second TIE whistled out of the darkness, bearing down on _Ghost_ with its lasers firing an almost constant beam of energy. Hera dodged, hoping that just maybe he'd hit the other Tie. He didn't, but at least _Ghost_ was unscored too.

 _::"We can't take them both. Going back into the belt, we'll have to wait them out or find another route,"_ crackled from the comms in the turrets. :: _"Keep us covered."_

Lasers flashed around them, Sabine and Zeb doing their best to get a shot on either Tie. Another two seconds, one second… they were into the asteroid belt, and Hera slipped into the swarm of rocks and dust, keeping _Ghost_ moving with them rather than against them.

::" _Powering down_ ," she informed the turrets, flicking switches on the console. While it left them vulnerable, there was nothing she had dealt with that had been able to find _Ghost_ when she didn't want it found.

They waited, moving as softly and lazily through space as the tumbling asteroids around them. They didn't have long to wait as the intership communication panel lit up. She glanced at it, eyes narrowed.

::" _Excellent flying, Captain Syndulla, your reputation is deserved. I must admit I thought it exaggeration. I wouldn't have expected such skill from a non Force-sensitive."_ A courteous tone, although with a low edge of malice to it that Hera noted far more than the words. She didn't respond. She wasn't in the mood for inter-ship battle banter and she wasn't certain if this was a trick to keep them in one place while his friend slipped in.

:: _"Not going to chat? Oh well. We could stay here and play with you some more, you_ are _cornered in there. But so little time available and you're not the ones we want anyway."_

Hera's eyes narrowed. On the one hand that was not surprising; the Inquisitors would absolutely and gleefully murder the entire crew of _Ghost_ with no qualms, but they were primarily focussed on the Jedi pair. On the other, entirely surprising that he knew they weren't there. She needed to get a warning to Kanan and Ezra. Which she couldn't do from here.

:: _"I will be sure to pass on my regards when we find your friends on Belior II. I am afraid you won't be joining us."_

Hera had just time to start powering the engines again, reinforcing the shields, before the two TIEs fired torpedos into the asteroid belt. They struck and exploded, sending shards of rock spinning unpredictably around _Ghost_. The lazy natural pace of the asteroids changed with the explosion's impulse and Hera had to make quick adjustments almost from standstill to keep her ship untouched. She didn't entirely succeed and _Ghost_ shuddered as an asteroid scraped along her underbelly. She felt an engine go before the console started warning her.

"Come on, my girl, we can get through this," she mumbled encouragingly to the ship, and _Ghost_ responded under her hands, even with one engine out, nimbly twisting between whirling debris.

::" _Farewell_ ," came the mocking voice over the ship's comm., and then it shut off.

 _::"Hera, the Tie-fighters are breaking off."_

::" _One TIE jumping to hyperspace,"_ reported Zeb at the same moment, the two Spectres speaking over each other.

The other swiftly followed and Sabine let her hands drop from the gun.

:: _"They've knocked out an engine."_ Hera's voice faded from the comms as she directed Chopper behind her before turning back. :: _"They're after the_ Phantom _. They know where Kanan and Ezra are going."_

:: _"Kriffin' knew it,"_ grumped Zeb. _"Told you it was too good to be true."_

Hera's lips twisted wryly as she acknowledged it. :: _"Guess it was. But you can tell it to Kanan when we find them. Engine's down, Chopper's on it. Zeb, need you down here to give him a hand."_

Chopper made an insulted sound. Hera ignored it until she had cleared the unpredictable asteroids again and slipped out of the leading edge of the belt. She straightened up, reading the ship's protests and damage alerts. It was mostly superficial, as long as the engine wasn't badly damaged. "Time's of the essence, Chop. They have a head start on us and _Phantom_ doesn't know they're coming." Not to mention that _Phantom_ couldn't pull half of what _Ghost_ could. And while Kanan was a good pilot – an excellent pilot by normal standards – if Hera couldn't deal with two Inquisitorial Tie-fighters in her highly modified ship, expecting him to in the shuttle was an unreasonable ask. She hoped the damaged wing on one of the TIEs would slow them down a bit. Long enough for _Ghost_ to get on their trail.

… _._

 _Updated Notes: Think I sorted the formatting. And the misspelling of TIE._

 _Oddly enough, this was not the story I set up this account to post. But it seems to be the one flowing most freely._

 _I would very much like to use "pufferpig" or some variant thereof for "space chicken", but I figured it would be a bit obscure._

 _Seantoneill7_ _– Thanks for the feedback – and you're absolutely right, it was Wings in S2. I had that debate the other night with my partner and alas, he convinced me it was repaired in that ep rather than installed. Cough. Continuity error. Given how much rewriting the correction would take at this point, I hope it can be taken as a hiccup :D_


	2. Chapter 2: The Gate

**Chapter 2.**

 _AN: Thanks for the review, seantoneill - and you were dead right, the Phantom only got its hyperdrive mid-Season 2. Cough. My bad!_

 _..._

 _Phantom_

The Phantom dipped into the heavy cloud cover swirling over the surface of Belior II. It was, as far as anyone could tell, permanently that way. Daytime was marked by a grey haze, nightime by a black one. Ezra eyed over Kanan's shoulder at the controls as the pilot flipped on the proximity alerts and made a couple of other adjustments. There was no way he was going to be eyeballing this landing.

The craft descended lower, with the occasional protest from the proximity alert indicating…well, could be a very tall tree, could be a mountain for all Kanan could see. He had the temple co-ordinates locked in and they were close. The shuttle continued to descend and then the proximity alert lost its mind, warning that there was Something right below them and also to their right. And they still weren't out of the heavy shroud of fog. Not fog, Kanan realised as they sank lower. Fine ash particles swirled in the air, gritting the cockpit's forward screen.

"This might be rough," he warned Ezra, who checked his harness and braced his feet into the footwell.

And then they dropped out of the cloud, to see the ground close enough that Ezra could count pebbles below. They had been descending slowly, Kanan taking it cautiously, and even with as little clearance room as he'd been left with, he was able to set her down gently. Just as well. Hera wouldn't approve of him getting her _Phantom_ banged up. Surprisingly gently. _Phantom_ seemed to sink as she touched the ground. Kanan frowned.

As the engines powered down, Ezra unbuckled himself and went for the hatch.

"Wait a bit, Ezra, don't open the door until I've checked the air outside," cautioned Kanan, running his fingers over the console again as he keyed in the necessary commands. Ezra froze with his hand on the lock. Oh, yeah. Not suffocating would be good.

"Well, it must be breathable if there's a temple here," he pointed out.

"Possibly up to ten thousand years ago," Kanan responded drily. "There's certainly no-one living here now."

High sulphur. Mostly safe, although they probably wouldn't want to be breathing it too long.

"Looks like a volcano did for the place," he commented. "Take your rebreather, may as well be on the safe side if we get delayed." Ezra nodded, opening one of the overhead lockers and tossing Kanan's to him as well. The Jedi caught it without looking away from the console, doing a couple of last minute end-flight checks.

...

Outside, Ezra moved around the ledge the Phantom had landed on, clouds of ash rising as he stepped on and around cinders. On his left was a rising cliff face, to the right was a view over a valley. It was unprepossessing. As far as his eye could see was grey. Grey, grey, grey and brown. He shuffled closer to the edge warily and peered over. Oh, that was a long drop. A nasty thought occurred to him.

"So that volcano, are we on it?" he asked. Kanan looked over, but shrugged. "Maybe? Never was good at xenogeomorphology." Ezra blinked at him.

"The why of planetary surfaces," he translated. "It'd look like a mountain until it was on fire to me. Although if we –are-, that might explain why a nearby temple was abandoned."

"Could've just said that," protested Ezra.

"Part of your education. There'll be a quiz later." Kanan looked around too, but towards where his co-ordinates were pointing rather down cliff-faces. "Looks like this ledge we're on continues around." His eyes were caught by something and he moved in against the cliff, scratching at a rock that stood unnaturally straight, and then brushing away ash. "I can't read the carving, but this looks like a waymarker. There's something nearby in this direction anyway."

They had to take it in single file, Kanan leading the way and checking the ground as he walked towards it. There seemed to have been a path here once, carved into the side of the mountain. Here and there, winds had cleared ash away, sweeping it off the cliff and down into the valley below, leaving bare rock and lichen visible. The path was not straight, curving and winding in and around juts of rock and bare treestumps fossilised by centuries of grit-filled winds after the catastrophe that had originally felled them.

They rounded a corner and both stopped in surprise at the second sign of civilisation (if the waymarker could be counted as the first). Ezra wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but he stared curiously at the "ancient Jedi Temple" they had come to find.

The path ended at the end of vast hollow in the cliff-face, running clear off the lip to a ten or fifteen foot drop into the basin. At the far end, against the rising cliff-face, a vast overhang jutted half-over the pit, protecting it from filling with ash and debris. Vast pillars, twenty or so feet high, attracted the most attention though. Many were broken or toppled by the years, but there were still several rings of pillars forming a rough circle around an open area, once tiled, but now mostly hard-packed dirt. All of this would have been a bit strange on its own, but what was really puzzling the pair was the tall, black structure in the centre. It looked like a doorway, or possibly a very large mirror given the ornate designs on the stonework. Jet black, it gleamed dully against the grey surrounds. Ezra gave Kanan a questioning look, although glanced back at the structure as Kanan's expression indicated he was just as confused as Ezra was.

"This doesn't make much sense," said Kanan quietly. "What is that and why is it standing, relatively clean, in the middle of a ruined temple that no-one's set foot in for centuries?"

He was rapidly getting a bad feeling about all this. There was something wrong about this whole set-up. However, if Kanan was feeling dubious about it, apparently his impulsive young padawan wasn't.

"Let's go and find out," Ezra chirped up enthusiastically, taking a much longer stride forward than was remotely wise. He was immediately punished for it, as his foot slipped on a rock under a grey film. He yelped as he took the hill ungracefully, windmilling his arms as he tried to stay upright and more or less surfing down the slope in a pother of ash, sending two magnificent plumes trailing out behind him. He landed at the bottom solidly on his rear end. Kanan rolled his eyes again and decided not to risk the same undignified descent as his padawan. Ezra spat what tasted like burned mud out, giving his master a somewhat jaundiced look as the older Jedi landed neatly a few feet in front of him. He felt it was somewhat unfair that Kanan still didn't have a speck of dust on him, while Ezra felt like he was at least 50% ash by now. Brushing it out of his hair, he looked up and then blinked in surprise.

"Uh, Kanan? The cloud was really heavy coming in, right?"

Kanan looked up and realised what his padawan had meant. The cloud had hung low in the sky, so low that the shuttle's landing had been risky. But here and around this hollow in the mountainside, the cloud cover was lighter and far higher in the sky. The air was dry and, Ezra's descent notwithstanding, the ash mere scatters compared to the bleak landscape outside. He felt oddly better about it that after a moment. It was a benign sort of effect for a start. Which leaned more towards Jedi than sinister.

The two Jedi approached the structure. Kanan was still wary and he could feel his hand automatically hovering near his blaster. His senses were on alert now, and he glanced back up at the rim of the hollow above them. Ezra was more intrigued, and focussed all of his attention on the arch in front of him.

"Don't touch it. I don't know what it is, but I don't particularly trust it," warned his Master. Ezra decided that this was a warning he probably should pay attention to, and kept his hands firmly behind his back as he neared the structure.

It gave them no real answers once they were standing in front of it. It towered over them, wide enough for two people to pass through at once if they didn't mind a squeeze, and about half as tall again as Kanan. He studied the engravings weaving up to meet overheard.

"I can tell they're old and they are Jedi, but that's about it." _At least without touching it_ , he added mentally. He sighed. "I'm going to meditate. Take watch while I do, Ezra. There's still something about all this that I don't like."

Ezra nodded. He suspected this was going to be a fairly boring task. The world was dead. They were probably the only living things on it, and certainly the only living things for miles. There was no point asking how long Kanan would be. Until he was done.

Kanan settled himself and his padawan noted with silent glee that finally Kanan too was going to end up coated in muck. He scrubbed off his face, leaving grey streaks, and turned to look at the archway again. Kanan looked pointedly over his shoulder towards the path they had taken in and Ezra made a face, but turned to look in that direction instead.

"And Ezra, don't go through the archway," Kanan added, before focussing back on the archway and slowing his breathing in preparation. Ezra glanced back, and then at the arch again.

"No problem," he agreed readily. Impulsive he might be, stupid he wasn't. Kanan was presumably satisfied with the reassurance as he said nothing more, and Ezra stole a glance over to note that the older Jedi was already in a meditative state. He sighed silently. It still took him fifteen minutes or so to be able to settle that far. While this was still an improvement, he wondered if he'd ever be able to just switch off the world like that.

 _Focus, focus, but don't focus too much or it's trying to push it,_ he thought to himself. Apparently there was a balance to be struck. Ezra felt like he rarely succeeded in hitting it. He blew at a clump of hair that was falling over his eyes and a shower of dust sprinkled over him. He blinked rapidly to clear his eyes, grumbling to himself. Hunting ancient Jedi temples was one of those things that sounded more fun than it was. He wondered how the _Ghost_ had gotten on with the nerf delivery.

...

While he managed to sit still, keeping watch and listening for any movement, for about fifteen minutes, the young teenager was rapidly restless. The deadening effects of the heavy cloud cover above, the ash below, and the cliff-faces all around were unnerving. For a boy used to the wide-open grassy plains of Lothal, it was eerie. To distract himself from worrying thoughts of the cliffs closing in, or that massive overhang collapsing on them, Ezra straightened up again and prowled around the …doorway, he decided. And maybe that's all it was. An inner door of the temple that once stood here. He mulled this idea, but, while it was a temptingly innocent explanation, he was having trouble resolving the remarkable degree of difference between the pillars and all the pale grey rock he'd seen on this planet with the obsidian structure. He tore his eyes guiltily away from it and scanned around again. _Keep watch and not on the arch thingie_ , he reminded himself.

A cold wind blew and the boy shivered, feeling as though the sun had gone in. Which couldn't be the case, as the sun hadn't penetrated the thick cloud since they'd arrived. He straightened nervously, some sense trying to warn him – but there was nothing to see. He could hear nothing. He took a few steps away from the structure and Kanan, scanning around the rim of the bowl-shaped hollow intently. There was something wrong. He hesitated, glancing at Kanan. Interrupting him because he was nervy of nothing wasn't exactly Ezra's preference. On the other hand, hadn't Kanan told him to listen to his instincts? Because his instincts were screaming now. He opened his mouth to speak, glancing over his shoulder, and then his eyes widened.

At the same moment, Kanan's eyes flicked open and his hand dropped to his lightsaber.

"Ezra, look out!" clashed in the air with Ezra's yell of his name, as a whirling red flash buzzed past him. The rotating weapon span through the arch and then boomeranged back. Ezra hit the deck as Kanan cleared him with his lightsaber already activated. Blue and red met as Kanan deflected the spinning double-bladed weapon away from his padawan, turning to see a tall, thin figure standing on the lip of the hollow above. The Inquisitor caught the spinning blade deftly and smiled at the pair. It wasn't a friendly one.

"Two Jedi falling into my trap, how nice," he observed. Kanan's eyes narrowed and he kept himself between Ezra and the Inquisitor, running through the options of how to get them both safely out of this mess. The Inquisitor gathered himself and leaped from the cliff, his blades spinning overhead and giving him much more distance than he might have naturally attained. Kanan decided he wasn't remotely going to be sporting about this and rather than waiting for his arrival, he drew his blaster, firing off several shots at the descending Force-user while his blade was occupied. Despite Kanan's Force-enhanced reflexes, the Inquisitor avoided them with ease. One of the shots was deflected from the spinning lasers and spat haphazardly back towards the two Spectres, causing Ezra to leap like a startled lothcat out of its path.

"Kanan!"

Kanan's eyes flicked sideways a moment at the urgent voice. Ezra slipped behind him, his own blaster in hand. "There's another one, Kanan!"

The Inquisitors closed in, approaching from opposite sides. A male and a female strolled towards them with studied nonchalance, clearly deciding that the pair were no real threat. Kanan was well aware by now that they were right. He couldn't take one Inquisitor without a lot of luck and maybe the _Ghost_ on his side. Two, prepared, and while he needed to watch out for Ezra, was definitely over his skill level after only six months back in training after a fifteen-year hiatus.

"Alright, so what is this thing you've set up?" he asked. Partially out of curiosity, partially because while they were talking, the Inquisitors weren't killing them. He shifted backwards and to the side, edging Ezra backwards too so Kanan could at least have eyes on both of the enemies.

"Your education is sadly lacking, _padawan_ ," needled the second Inquisitor, emphasising the rank maliciously. Kanan refused to be drawn, keeping his focus on both Inquisitors.

"Then educate me," he said shortly.

The first Inquisitor looked up at the gate, his relaxed attitude as he took his eyes off Kanan as a thoroughly insignificant threat intended for the insult it was. "This," he said almost fondly, "is the key to ensuring the Empire absolute dominance over the galaxy from the moment of its inception for the next ten thousand years." He turned to give Kanan another malicious smile, emphasising the words. Kanan frowned, hearing for a moment the echo of another voice, a thin, rasping, sneer of a voice. _An Empire that would last ten thousand years_. He dismissed the voice of the Senator-as-was.

"Fifteen years later is a bit late to be thinking about improving the moment of its inception, isn't it?" he pointed out, keeping his voice calm and steady. Still needed a plan. One was starting to form, and, as was often the case, it was desperate and hairy, but might just work. Ezra was sticking close to him, keeping the female Inquisitor covered by his blaster for what good it might do. She smiled thinly.

"Go ahead, padawan's padawan. First shot free." Ezra eyed her as she lifted her arms, her lightsaber unlit, smiling wickedly. "The next shot goes back into your stomach. Unpleasant way to die. Very slow." Ezra had a nasty feeling that his first shot wasn't going to go anywhere near neutralising her. But hey, if she insisted. He fired.

The red beam shot out from the hilt. She didn't even have to move it, having placed it precisely in the blaster's path. She twisted her wrist as the shot impacted and the blast rebounded, going over Ezra's head and scoring into Kanan's upper arm.

Kanan's cry of surprised pain and Ezra's yelp mingled in the air. When silence broken only by Kanan's hissed breathing descended again, the female smiled sweetly at Ezra.

"Oops," she said.

"I'm really sorry, Kanan," mumbled Ezra contritely under his breath, knowing the other Jedi would hear it. He was trying to control the fear in his voice, but they were alone, surrounded by two Inquisitors, with no hope of rescue or help and he'd just shot Kanan.

Kanan didn't respond, but gave him a comforting nudge with his other elbow, not daring to take his eyes off their opponents. Until his body had stopped reacting to the electric blaster shot, he didn't quite risk speaking, focussing on controlling his breathing again. He tested his hand on the lightsaber's hilt. The odds had gone from bad to really _really_ bad. _The Force is with me and I am one with the Force_ , he chanted in his mind, for a moment hearing echoes of a group of students repeating the words in an open airy room in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. If his hand could grip, the wound wasn't too bad. He'd manage. If he could get the plan across to his padawan, who was absolutely not going to like it.

The male Inquisitor hadn't spoken throughout the interlude, watching and smiling faintly. Now he spoke again, sounding like a Jedi master patiently chiding a foolish student.

"Focus, padawan. You're easily distracted." Kanan glared at him. _Getting shot is distracting._

"Your ignorance is regrettable perhaps, a sad indictment of your master, whoever it was." The Inquisitor's voice was dismissive. "Then again, every meeting between my brothers and you have been an indictment on your training."

Kanan tried not to roll his eyes again, still focussed on controlling his reaction to the unexpected pre-battle injury. The insults aimed at him were one thing, but he knew the Dark Force-user was aiming the jabs at his long-dead master to get under his skin. He was uncomfortably aware that it was working. _Of course they had to come and annoy me today. They couldn't have postponed it to next month or something?_

"Did you really come out to the edge of nowhere to scold me about my training?" he asked in a tone that would have been bored if a both tenseness and pain hadn't been edging through.

"I came to gain your assistance to the Empire," responded the Inquisitor, with an amused smirk. "I don't think you'll be able to refuse."

Both Jedi looked at him blankly. The sheer unlikeliness of this had surely been made clear to the Empire by now. Although the sinister implications of the last sentence had passed neither by. As the moment stretched, Ezra cleared his throat.

"So…are you going to say what you want?" he asked.

"No," responded the Inquisitor simply, and attacked.

...

Kanan had been expecting this from the start, but he was still taken aback at the speed with which the man moved. The red saber span dizzyingly and he kept his focus past it, on the man's body. Red clashed with blue again, the saber beams sticking a moment as they pushed against each other, both probing for weaknesses. Kanan broke off first, knowing his shoulder wasn't going to take too much of that, and then turned sharply to snap his saber out over Ezra's head, catching the Sister's slash for the boy's face. Ezra fired again as she lunged, half-expecting that she'd manage to keep her promise to hit him with his own shot. While the lower part of her saber shot out, skimming the ground and deflecting the blast, she wasn't able to twist it back at him this time, and she hissed in annoyance, her bright yellow eyes gleaming down into the blue ones below.

"Ezra, when I give the word, jump for the rim," Kanan muttered hurriedly to him, disengaging from the female swiftly as the first Inquisitor bore down on them again. Ezra gave him a quick look, knowing that that distance was still beyond him. He didn't dare argue right now though, not that he had time to. Kanan dropped low, sweeping for the man's legs. He wasn't expecting to strike, and the Inquisitor cleared it easily, even contemptuously. As he did, the saber changed direction, turning from a horizontal sweep to a vertical one. If the Inquisitor's reflexes hadn't been Force-enhanced, it would have bisected him. As it was, it forced him to make a less graceful tumble out of the way. He rose to his feet again, ash dropping from his robes, and his eyes now sharp and interested. The two clashed again, the blinding energy of the sabers leaving blue and red trails in the dust motes being kicked up. Kanan was trying to keep some attention behind him on his padawan, but the male Inquisitor was pressing him hard and the slightest distraction was probably going to get him impaled.

Ezra was having his own problems. The female was striking almost playfully at him with her blade, forcing him to duck and dodge – and gradually separating him from his master. He could see exactly what she was doing, but any attempts to break free of her herding meant leaping into the path of her lightsaber. He really, really wished he had one. The blaster felt more like a liability than a help against someone who could shoot him right back with his own energy bolts.

"You're still young," she mused, lazily herding him with slashes that he could only avoid, not counter. And he was all too aware that the only reason he wasn't dead already was that she was having fun. Or didn't want him dead. "Young enough to give up on the teachings of a long-dead Order of fools and see what actual power tastes like." She smiled wolfishly. "Unless you like being helpless."

Ezra emphatically did not like being helpless. However, he was pretty sure that joining the Dark Side wasn't the best answer.

"'m good thanks. I like my eyes as they are. Yours'd scare lothcats off their meal," he replied, warily watching the red saber dance far too close to him. Suddenly his vision was filled with red as she pointed the tip so close to his left eyeball that he could feel it drying up from the intense energy. He gulped.

"Would you prefer no eyes at all?" she asked, moving the tip even closer. "Such big, pretty blue eyes you have. I could make them black." Ezra backed up against a pillar, the singing blade following him.

A sudden whirring made his ears hum but the saber was jolted sideways away from his face. A flash of blue winked out. Still seeing afterimages burned onto the inside of his eyelids, Ezra threw himself to the side and away from the female Inquisitor, now seeing Kanan's hilt whipping back towards his master's hand. Kanan turned as he caught it and only barely managed to block the blow that had come down for his back. As the Inquisitor pressed him down he had to grip the blade with both hands, feeling his shoulder burn as he used all his strength to prevent himself being decapitated by his own weapon. The Inquisitor's yellow eyes bored into the green ones. "Don't you think it fitting for the last Jedi in the galaxy to fall to the hand of the Empire on the anniversary of the fall of the Order?" he asked, his tone far too reasonable for a death threat. He leaned in further and Kanan knew he had to break off before he was actually on the ground. The Inquisitor had probably twenty or thirty pounds weight difference to him and wasn't injured. And he was making the most of it. They stared at each other over the sparking blades, both feeling the burn through to their chests as the intense electrical heat scorched the Inquisitor's robes and Kanan's light padding.

"Where were you when the Jedi were overthrown?" asked the Brother, staring intently at him. "Coruscant? Listening to the screams of the younglings in the Temple as they were slaughtered?"

 _What the hell? Was this an added special in honour of Empire Day_? Answering was becoming rapidly impossible anyway.

"Or were you out fighting the Separatists when the clones under your master turned and cut down every Jedi they could find?"

That shot hit home. The Brother saw the flicker in his eyes and snarled, seemingly frustrated. He kept up the stream of spite, his words a low continuous hiss.

" _The Jedi hoped to unleash their destructive power against the Republic by assassinating the head of government and usuring control of the clone army. But the aims of the would-be tyrants were valiantly opposed by those without elitist, dangerous powers. Our loyal clone troopers contained the insurrection within the Jedi Temple and quelled uprisings on a thousand worlds."_

Kanan nearly lost his focus altogether as the man quoted Palpatine's speech, eyes widening and shaking his head to try dismiss a sudden memory of watching that speech on the holonet. It was broadcast everywhere. It was the first time he'd heard why their clone troops had turned on them. The betrayal of the Republic's protectors by the Senator with the hoarse, rasping, _reasonable_ voice and a stream of pure venom under it.

Even if it wasn't the eve of Empire Day, Kanan had dealt with a lot of the events of those days by burying them with his Padawan past and drinking enough to forget until it became habit. It was safer and also the only bearable option. But deliberately ignoring the memories didn't make them go away. Even now, the words _clone trooper_ would send a chill up his spine and make his hand itch.

 _Stop letting him get to you! Focus!_ His eyes cleared as he forced himself to snap out of it and deal with the very real problems of the present.

Kanan caught up with what his body had tried to tell him twenty seconds before, that he wasn't going to win this and attempting to would have him down on the Inquisitor's terms rather than his own. He dropped suddenly, snatching up a handful of ash to fling into the Inquisitor's face. As the Jedi rolled out of the way of the blind slash, the Brother groped at his eyes to clear them, hissing. Taken by surprise, he momentarily went on the defensive, his sabers starting to spin rapidly, leaving no opening to take in his moment of weakness. Kanan looked for Ezra again.

Ezra had decided against engaging the female head-on and was doing what he did best, which was rapid evasion, darting between the pillars. She stalked him mercilessly, playing cat and mouse with the young teenager, deflecting blaster bolts with ease. While she didn't carry out her threat of hitting him in the stomach with one, she was landing them consistently close to him. Ezra felt very much like prey.

Kanan darted towards them, focusing on the Sister. She sensed his approach and span to face him as he Force-leaped towards her. As he brought his saber around to strike, he saw her expression change to glee and then the Brother crashed into him from the side, swatting him out of the air. He hit the ground heavily and felt the burned skin around the blaster damage burst into flame again.

The Brother was no longer moving nonchalantly, but stalked towards him, whirling his saber. Kanan found the situation going rapidly downhill as he got to his feet and immediately had to defend against a flurry of blows that seemed to get more brutal even as they sped up, the Inquisitor's eyes brightening with rage and hate. There was no hope of going on the attack and he was being rapidly herded towards the middle of the arena.

The Inquisitor breathed heavily, but breaths of excited, savage glee rather than tiredness. Kanan however, was tiring. And he was getting worn down, mentally as well as physically. It was getting harder to keep the thoughts, the fears, that the Inquisitor was trying to rouse down.

He had the Jedi now. He could feel it in how the pace of the battle had changed. He was tiring. His weaknesses were coming to the fore. The Brother was turning his own mind against him. He glanced past his victim, looking for the Gateway and smiled. The first step was nearly complete. He just needed the Jedi's mind to form the link. And maybe there was a faster way to do this now that the Jedi was rattled. Glancing back at the Jedi, he struck at him with unexpected, will-crushing power. "I feel your fear. When were you most vulnerable, Jedi? _You will remember_!" he commanded.

...

Ezra had temporarily lost sight of his Inquisitor, but he was well aware she was still nearby. And she was going to find him. He darted around another pillar, breathing quick and trying to keep down boiling panic. He couldn't see Kanan anymore either but the last Ezra had seen, he looked to be in trouble. He looked around for anything that he could use to buy himself some time. Enough time to come up with an idea or at least not be hounded uselessly in circles! A fallen pillar was enough. He darted for it, dashing up the side to the broken crown. He had intended just on getting some height, but as he reached the top, he saw the next pillar, ten to twelve feet away and another fifteen or feet or so up and _knew_ he could make it. Ezra didn't pause but leaped like a lothcat – a Force-imbued one at that – landing lightly on the top. There she was. He stayed low and watched the woman prowl around the pillars, holding his breath as she neared him. She was going to look up. She- had passed. Ezra exhaled silently, waiting for her to move onwards before leaping lightly to the next pillar, looking anxiously for Kanan.

It wasn't going well. Kanan was being pressed back rapidly and even the relatively inexperienced Ezra could tell that his strikes were purely defensive and also weakening, while the Inquistor's were relentless. He was only using one blade of his saber, but it moved so fast it was a blur to the padawan. He aimed his blaster, but they were too far away and too close together. He measured the distance to the doorway, wondering if he could use it for cover. Then his eyes widened at what was happening inside it.

The arch was no longer empty. It was swirling with murky colour, browns and greens with the odd splash of white and red. Images were forming and fading, merging into each other. _What_ _is happening?_ Whatever it was, the Inquisitor was pushing Kanan right into it. Ezra looked around frantically, and then made a leap to the next pillar, making his way around the rim of the arena. He had to get behind him. His single-mindedness helped him to allow the Force to work through him unimpeded but it was too far. He wasn't going to be fast enough. Even as he leaped from the last pillar, landing in a roll and charged towards the Brother's back, Kanan appeared to stumble and the Inquisitor had forced his back to the Gate's archway. In the moment Ezra took to raise his blaster, the Inquisitor had reversed his lightsaber, the hilt pointing towards the Jedi and activated the other blade, pinning Kanan to the thing by his leg.

The last few moments had been a blur. Disorientated by the unexpected strength of the mental strike, already under attack from within his own mind and rapidly losing his focus, Kanan stumbled, seeing for a moment twisted metal on the ground, flashes of white armour, blaster fire. Depa Billaba's lightsaber slashing into Separatist droids. Mygeeto, Felucia, Kaller merged and resolved in his mind. Out of all of them and in that moment as he felt his back hit stone, one planet, one battle, stood out.

...

 _His back was pressed against a tree, a huge, gnarled old thing, wide enough that to the pressed padawan, it might as well be a wall or a cliff-face. His lightsaber snapped to and fro, catching blaster bolts from the droids ahead and deflecting them as wide as he could to try strike the two men coming up on either side. The Separatist Sergeant he had seen by the side of their commander Dulkuth was particularly distracting since the man was wielding a two-handed vibrosword that didn't so much hum as roar. If he was coming up against a lightsaber with a vibroblade, it had weave on it, which meant he had to engage. Which left him open to the blasters. In the instant between two triggers being pulled and needing to deflect the bolts, he had turned and jabbed for the Sergeant's eyes, aiming to dispose of him swiftly. He spun back before the man could react and deflected one shot but -_

 _\- a burning sensation in his leg-_

 _\- and he wasn't going to be able to deal with the shot he knew was being fired from the man coming up on his left, too close –_

 _..._

The Inquisitor looked up at the gateway as it shimmered and settled on an image, trees and trampled grass. He smiled thinly.

"The Empire thanks you. I will give Master Kenobi your regards in the Jedi Temple." With that, he was gone. Ezra belatedly fired after him, but the shot shimmered and faded as it hit the image inside the arch. Ezra saw his master starting to fall as his leg suddenly realised that it actually had been stabbed and his single-minded focus on getting to him gave him the Force-will for one more leap of the kind he'd pulled off consistently and without thinking today, compared to six months of much more tepid attempts. He got himself under Kanan's arm and they both stared at the portal, Kanan a little muzzily as he tried to separate past and present properly again. His mind was rapidly clearing.

"What is that?" Ezra asked nervously, squinting into it. Kanan had gone very white, and Ezra didn't think it was only from his leg.

"I thi-" A lightsaber igniting behind them. _Oh kriffing hells and then there's her_ , thought at least one of the pair as they turned, Kanan's lightsaber firing back into life, although he currently had grave doubts at the moment about being able to take on Ezra, let alone another Inquisitor. And the Inquisitor had gone through after Obi-Wan Kenobi. He didn't dare let his concentration lapse on the gateway either.

"If you're going to gloat, at least make it helpful," said Ezra defiantly, although the question was also sincere. He would really like to know what was going on.

"Ask your master," she replied with a nasty smirk, moving casually towards them. "But do it quickly, because I _am_ about to kill you this time," she added helpfully.

Kanan kept his lightsaber ready as she approached, having no intention of letting her get to Ezra and quickly mulled over if his current insane idea was really the only option available. First Ezra saw a silver-grey dot break the cloud cover far above. It rapidly grew larger. Now the other two saw it, and the Sister hissed her displeasure, looking from the rapidly descending starship to the gateway ahead. Kanan moved firmly in front of it, keeping Ezra directly behind him and feeling an immeasurable sense of relief. It gave him at least temporary fresh energy and he managed something that wasn't unalike his normal cocky smile.

The Sister spun around again as the _Ghost_ screamed towards her. She set her stance and readied her blade for the attack she expected and a flash erupted from _Ghost's_ forward cannon. She grinned in anticipation, but the shot flew past harmlessly, crashing into a nearby pillar. She raised an eyebrow, and as _Ghost_ followed through with a series of laser shots, she deflected them easily, sending several back towards the two Jedi behind her. Ezra dropped to the ground and stayed there, his blaster useless for this. He listened to the zaps of the bolts striking off Kanan's lightsaber and resolved to talk to his master about the prospect of his building one. Soon. If they survived this, at least.

"That was pathet-," the Inquisitor started to critique as _Ghost_ completed her pass and lifted again. Her next words were drowned out by the pillar, Hera's original target, completing its ponderous fall onto her, its base blown out by the explosion.

...

There was a long silence, broken only by the ragged breathing of both Jedi as they watched the massive length of rock warily. Ezra could see what he was fairly sure was her hand coming out from under the rubble. It wasn't moving and there was blood staining around it. That had to be a good sign, right? His spirits started to lift as the _Ghost_ landed and he realised that they had actually survived the encounter. Kanan was injured, but would be okay. He'd actually welcome a scolding for that careless shot at the female Inquisitor. Things would be back to normal then.

"Are you injured?" Ezra blinked and mentally checked himself over. He felt tired, starting to realise that he'd worked with the Force as Kanan had been trying to teach him, and he'd done it alone for the length of the cat and mouse game the Inquisitor had been playing with him.

"Nothing more than bruises. Are you okay?" he asked, carefully moving a couple of steps to the left so that Kanan could sit down again against the archway. Ezra realised that he really wasn't too sure how to deal with lightsaber injuries as he looked at the blackened injury, burned cloth around it. Infection? It wasn't bleeding at least, but he wasn't certain if instant cauterisation was all that much better in terms of it being able to heal. Kanan followed his look and cautiously flexed his toes to ensure he did still have movement. It hurt, but his leg was still mostly working.

"It'll be alright. Bacta will help it." And if he could remember exactly how healing trances worked. His shoulder still hurt more, a dull firey sensation. Ash and grit had stuck to it and each grain adhering to the scorched skin felt like tiny spark. But even that was faded behind the dawning horror of what the Inquisitor had tricked him into doing. He looked back at the gateway, lips tight. Ezra followed his glance even as the _Ghost_ settled onto the planet's dusty surface.

"What happe-" he started, before the hatch opened on the freighter, signalling the arrival of the Spectre rescue crew. Zeb was first out, the big Lasat making the leap out onto the planet's surface, bo-staff crackling in readiness as his landing sent up plumes of dust. He looked around for something to beat up. Preferably not an Inquisitor, as Zeb wasn't suicidal, but Stormtroopers would have been fun. He grumbled as he realised there would be no fight to be had at the moment, and, since the rest were heading over to ensure his two crewmates were alright, he took the moment to do a quick perimeter and ensure nothing else was about to jump out at them. He paused by the squashed Inquisitor and peered suspiciously at the massive column. All of them had a healthy wariness of just how much the Jedi-hunters could withstand and Zeb wasn't about to trust that several tonnes of rock would do it without checking. He pushed at the lightsaber hilt still half in her hand and half under the rock. It splintered as he did and he grunted. The pillar was pressed against the hard-packed dirt and broken tiles. Nothing under it was still in three dimensions.

Zeb prodded the large column once more (it didn't move so much as a millimetre) and then turned to head over to the rest of the group. There appeared to be an argument going on, mostly between Kanan and everyone else. As he reached them, Chopper put an end to it by zapping the man, who yelped and scowled at him.

"Will you listen a minute!" Kanan snapped, partially at the droid, which beeped smugly in response.

"We're listening, but let one of us look at your leg, love," said Hera patiently. "What happened?" She fixed his look with her own, both proving she was listening and drawing his attention away from Sabine checking over the injury.

"What is that thing?" asked Zeb helpfully, stopping in front of the gate and giving it a baleful expression. He doubted it was good.

"That's the problem," gritted Kanan, trying to ignore Sabine's careful cutting away of the crisped material immediately around the injury. "The Inquisitor's gone through. He's after Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. I think I opened it."

"What?"

"How?"

"Do you know where Master Kenobi is?"

The questions all came at once. Kanan tried to sort through them.

"Not where he is now, but I know where he was then," he replied tiredly, feeling reaction starting to kick in. "I think he's gone back to the rise of the Empire. He's trying to change it. Kill Master Kenobi before he can reverse the beacon." Partially just thinking aloud, straightening out what had just happened, and still a little mazed at the whole experience, he didn't quite realise just how strange this would sound to those who had come into the action five minutes or fifteen years late.

Hera gave him an odd look, not remotely following this and wondering if Kanan had hit his head. Ezra frowned, mulling through this and remembering the Inquisitor's words. And the message on Kanan's holocron.

"Is that…the past?" he asked slowly, wondering if he had managed to grab the wrong end of a completely different stick. How could that be possible?

Kanan shrugged and then hissed as he realised that was an incredibly bad idea. "I think so. I thought he was just trying to get into my head, but he really wanted me to remember the Clone Wars. And you heard what he said before he went through."

" _I'll give your regards to Master Kenobi at the Temple_ ," quoted Ezra thoughtfully. "Is this even possible?"

Kanan sighed. "I don't know. But _he_ thinks it is and either way, he has gone after Master Kenobi, wherever he is. As far as I know, Master Kenobi has been dead for years."

"I saw this forming when you were fighting," replied Ezra, his face screwed up into a frown. "It was all swirling colours and images. I was trying to reach you when it became…" He looked up at the dark green trees. "This."

"Ow!" Kanan was momentarily distracted by his leg again, where Sabine had just peeled the last of the cloth away from where it was sticking to the fused skin.

"Sorry, it's not as bad as it looked though. It looks like it went straight through without hitting the bone," she said somewhat reassuringly. "Can you move your foot?"

Kanan proved he could, although his attention was drawn back to the gate.

"We have to stop him," he said urgently. "If that is a path back to the past, he can _change it_."

"Why does he want Obi-Wan Kenobi?" asked Hera with a frown. The name wasn't entirely new to her. She remembered it as the name of one of the great Jedi generals of the Separatist war, a face that had appeared more than a few times on the Holonet, when a victory over the rebels had been announced. She remembered his face on the 'net after Ryloth had been retaken by Republic forces.

Kanan chewed his lip. This sounded crazy even to him. But he was more and more sure that this was really happening.

"After Order 66, at the end of the Clone Wars, someone sent out a beacon from the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, recalling all Jedi. It was a trap. The Temple had already fallen. Master Kenobi somehow got to it and changed it, warning the survivors away. Without him, the Jedi who escaped the initial purge would have walked right into it. Any survivors that have caused the Empire trouble since could be eliminated back then. The future would be changed."

Ezra looked green. "So that's what he meant about us not being able to refuse to assist the Empire," he said slowly.

 _Yep. Played me like a kriffing instrument_ , thought Kanan sourly. He felt utterly sick that he had been tricked into betraying the Jedi. He gently pushed Sabine away to get up.

"We need to get after him," he said firmly. "He can't get to Coruscant." A large purple hand on his (good, fortunately) shoulder pushed him down again.

" _We_ need to get after him," pointed out Zeb, just as firmly. "You need to stay here and let your leg heal." At what looked like an argument about to spring to Kanan's lips, he added. "Unless yer planning to bleed on him. Anyway, if we're to get back, you need to keep this thing open, right? You're the link to the past?"

Kanan hesitated at that and his lips tightened again. "Yes, I think so," he agreed reluctantly. Besides, the movement alone had told him even more firmly than Zeb could that he would be absolutely useless limping across the galaxy after an Inquisitor. Zeb looked at Hera. They had their mission, Kanan was going to act sensibly, what were they waiting for? Sabine also looked to her. It all sounded pretty nuts to her as well, but Kanan seemed sure about it, which was good enough.

Hera still wasn't sure she understood exactly what was going on. This was very much in the realm of Jedi stuff, which none of them bar Ezra had been particularly exposed to before now. She had seen the incredible things that Jedi could do, and understood the basic concepts of the Force, but _time travel_? Still, she had worked with Kanan for nine years or so now, and if he said that this was happening and had to be stopped, then that's what they'd have to do. She nodded agreement.

"So we need to follow the Inquisitor and stop him getting to Coruscant and Master Kenobi," she summarised.

"Not exactly setting an easy task," said Kanan ruefully, and not a little guiltily. "I really don't like dragging you into this."

"Hey, saving the galaxy is what we do," put in Sabine with a cocky smile. She glanced over at Ezra. Normally that would have been his line. Ezra was staying quiet for the moment, looking a bit torn.

Hera lightly squeezed his shoulder. "And you'd do the same for any of us. We'll stop him," she said before frowning a moment. "Chopper, you're staying with Kanan," she told the droid. "Look after him and the _Ghost_." Neither Kanan nor Chopper looked entirely sure about this prospect, but Kanan shrugged a shoulder. (Actually, he could do with everyone, including himself, leaving his shoulders alone for a bit. Both were now aching.)

"Probably just as well. His model is too new to look convincing, especially since he's obviously been around a while." Chopper beeped indignantly and looked very much like he might zap him again. Kanan growled tiredly at him, in no mood to be electrocuted. Hera placed a warning hand over Chopper's forward sensors.

"Leave him alone, Chopper. He's injured. You can argue later. Spectres?" She glanced across the trio left. Ezra had been staying very quiet and hovering around Kanan, obviously torn between going and leaving his injured master more or less alone. He felt incredibly guilty about having _shot_ him. Stopping the Inquisitor might at least help make up for it. But he also didn't want to leave him. He pressed his lips together, looking at the ground, before he saw Kanan's hand on his arm, getting his attention.

"They'll need you, Ezra. You can sense the Inquisitor when he's nearby, if you focus on it. You remember what he feels like in the Force?"

Ezra nodded slowly. "I felt "cold" just before they appeared. Something _wrong_." Cold wasn't really the right word. It was a feeling he didn't have a word for, and it was the closest he could manage. He hoped Kanan might understand his emphasis.

Kanan nodded. "Good. When you feel _that,_ he's close."

Ezra exhaled. Not a feeling he wanted to get again, all things considered. "Got it. Are you going to be alright, Kanan? I'm really sorry about shooting you," he added again, blushing furiously. Kanan waved it off.

"Just remember that they can do that, okay? I saw some of what you were doing during the battle. You did good, Ezra." He hesitated a moment and then offered him his lightsaber.

"You might need this. Remember your training. Don't try to go toe-to-toe with him, and _don't let this be seen_. It will make you a target if you use it publically. Understand?"

Ezra accepted it with a reluctance that was unlike him. He wanted a lightsaber, and hoped that Kanan would soon show him how to make one of his own. But using Kanan's reinforced how serious the situation was and also that Kanan wasn't coming and Ezra would have to be the team's Jedi for it. With only six months or so of training under his belt, he could feel the responsibility heavily in his stomach. Kanan squeezed his wrist reassuringly as Ezra attached it to his side. Sabine rose to her feet suddenly and headed off to the _Ghost_ again. Ezra glanced after her, confused.

"Hera, whatever happens, it's already happened. Any change you make back there has consequences. Killing someone who shouldn't have died or saving someone that did could render now unrecognisable. And you're not going to know what the effects are. Stay out of sight and don't interfere, unless to undo whatever the Inquisitor does back there."

Hera frowned, half-formed thoughts of whether they could use this to their advantage, somehow prevent the Empire from forming, _save Ryloth, Lasan, Lothal, so many worlds_ , freezing in place as she looked at him. He looked utterly serious about it, green eyes grave. She mulled his words and then nodded shortly, dismissing her thoughts.

"I know this all sounds like a holonovel, but it's just happened and I for one agree with the hypothetical rules of time travel." Kanan leaned back against the archway, injury and stress finally starting to catch up on him, along with the reaction to his use of the Force during the frantic fight. "Changing the future is completely different from changing the past."

"I understand. We'll stop this, Kanan," she said reassuringly. _Somehow_. And then she was never letting the two Jedi run off alone again if this was the sort of trouble they found.

He nodded, then caught her wrist a moment. "I know you will," he said with a faint smile. She smiled back and he loosed her wrist, turning his head enough to eyeball at the _portal…pathway, stupid-Jedi trap, whatever the damned thing is_ as Sabine jumped lightly from the _Ghost's_ ramp, carrying an armful of brown material. She tossed the heavy travelling wraps to her teammates, accidentally landing a long drape across Chopper, who protested vehemently.

"Good idea," approved Hera as she drew hers across her shoulders. The more out of sight and less memorable the group were, the better. It also disguised Ezra's screamingly orange jumpsuit and the lightsaber at his side. Sabine placed a couple of bacta packs beside Kanan, who nodded thanks to her.

"I'll be fine until you get back. Time probably won't pass the same way." Actually, he admitted to himself a few moments later, he had no idea of that. It wasn't like Jedi holobook storylines ever got actually tested. He decided not to bring that up now.

Hera glanced back at the _Ghost_ , but then back to the portal, briefly wishing it was large enough to fit the ship through. Or even the _Phantom_. But this mission was going to be on foot. She pulled the cloak around her, lifting the hood to cover her green skin and lekku. The others were similarly bundled and looking to her. Ezra looked keyed up, Sabine more cautiously so. Zeb looked like a stoic curtain. She nodded to them and placed a hand lightly on Kanan's shoulder. "We'll be back soon," she promised and then nodded to the group, turning to the portal. Green shimmers ran across the surface. It looked like a reflection in disturbed water. She took a breath and stepped through.

…***…

 _Having most recently seen S4 of Rebels, it's kinda interesting to write early Kanan (albeit having not seen the episodes in a while). He changed a lot during the series. At this point, he's not figured out that the strengths that kept him alive for the past fifteen years are weaknesses when it comes to fulfilling the path of the Jedi. Most of that would not have worked on him even by S2 and none of it by S3. He was very much on the back foot for most of S1 though._

 _Stabbing people in the leg is not traditionally necessary to open even this pathway, by the way. That was mostly the Inquisitor being a dick._


	3. Chapter 3: The Last Day of the Republic

**Chapter 3.**

 _Kaller,_

…***…

Hera had stepped through from hard bare dirt and ash, feeling grit under her toes. For just a moment she could still feel it under her left foot on Belior II and thick, lush grass under her right foot. Then she was through and chaos erupted around her.

From the other side of the gate, she had seen dark green and trees. Now sound and smell broke through. She turned, dropping into a crouch as the smell of burning, hot metal and blaster smoke assailed her nose and blaster fire, the grinding sounds of droids moving in unison and screams and shouts met her ears. She heard the _whuum_ of a lightsaber from somewhere ahead.

It was coming up to dusk on the planet, wherever she was. It certainly wasn't Coruscant, or any city-planet. She was at the edge of a large clearing, hemmed by thick dark forest similar to the lush jungle of Ryloth but that of a cooller clime, wide leaves and thick heavy branches rather than trails and vines. The clearing was more like a field, wide patches of thick grass interspersed with burned sectors where stumps of trees, twisted metal and the occasional flash of broken white armour half-buried in black ash bore mute testimonies to this place's use as a battlefield before now.

White armour, bronze and steel clashed in the field. A sea of droids, the ones not actively engaged moving in perfect, clanking unison were firing on a mass of white-armoured Stormtroopers who crashed through them in quick-moving units, frustrating the disciplined, single-minded unity of the droids with independent tactics and sorties. A green lightsaber flashed in the midst of the battle and Hera was momentarily confused as to what possible side a green lightsaber could be on between Stormtroopers and an assault droid army. As the other three appeared in the gloam beside her, she swiftly tugged them down as they oriented themselves to the conflict.

As she glanced back, it snapped into place, remembering holonet reports from long ago. It had been tweaked after the rise of the Empire, of course, downplaying the Jedi involvement in the conflict but in the time of the Republic, it had been no secret. The clone army of the Republic had crushed the Separatist faction with their droid armies, lead by the Jedi generals and commanders. Obi-Wan Kenobi had been a hero of the Republic forces. Hera's father Cham Syndulla had been instrumental in the defeat of the Separatist forces that held Ryloth along with General Ima-Gun Di and the clone Captain Keeli.

A blue lightsaber was in trouble nearby, pinned against a tree and under heavy fire, with two more humanoid shapes pincering him from either side. She heard the sound of Zeb's bo-rifle and glanced over, putting a hand on his arm. Whatever happened, happened. He glanced back and made a face, but lowered the staff.

The Jedi had dealt with one of the flanking men, who stumbled back with a cry, dropping his blade and clawing at his face, but the droids' fire was relentless and he was trying to deal with both them and the blaster in the hand of the second skirmisher behind him. A flash of green scythed through the droids and their shots went wild, at least three and a deflection hitting the second man, who dropped. The Jedi broke loose from the killing pen, forcing a path through the temporarily chaotic droid unit with a combination of Force-waves shoving them aside and his lightsaber.

With distraction of the Jedi's danger over, the four Spectres took quick stock. Ezra didn't seem entirely sure of what was going on, and he was staring at the battle with bewilderment. Sabine and Zeb seemed less uncertain, although the sight of what really did look a lot like Stormtroopers fighting on the same side as Jedi had thrown even those that had memories of war reports for a few moments.

 _Clone troopers_ , Hera reminded herself firmly. Republic forces. And a group of them were suddenly charging straight at their position. Hera tensed, now hearing clanking behind and to their left. Sabine was already turning, raising her blaster as a droid unit flanking the clone army advanced on their hiding spot. That they were on neither side was about to make them fair game for both.

Hera gestured towards the shell of a TX-130 off to the right, gutted and abandoned after a successful strike to the weak rear had cracked it like an egg. A shot whined overhead, from which side she wasn't sure. More blaster fire erupted as the other Spectres followed swiftly, but it seemed to be confined to between the droids and the Clones. Hera mentally thanked Sabine for thinking of the cloaks. In the dusk and against the dark ground, they were probably saving their lives. They regrouped behind the tank and Hera glanced back again. "Get to the trees. We'll figure out what to do later."

…***…

Once into the treeline, Hera exhaled in relief. She had not expected to come out into a warzone. Sabine was scrutinising the battle, the young Mandalorian's hand shifting on her blaster. Zeb was regarding it in a more reserved fashion, although there was some tenseness to his stance and his bo-rifle remained ready. Ezra looked deeply confused.

"We're in the Separatist War, Ezra," Hera wondered how to give him the crash course. "The Clone Wars. The Republic forces were lead by the Jedi, mostly clone soldiers. The Separatists fielded huge armies of droids." _Like on Ryloth_.

Ezra's mouth opened in a silent "oh" and Hera was reminded again that he was born on Empire Day and had never actually known a time before it ruled and shaped the narrative of societies. He shook his head after a moment's thought. "No, I remember some of this. My parents talked about it when I was growing up. Just not been something I thought of for a while. And, y'know, white helmets..."

"So where –are- we?" asked Sabine, looking between Hera and Zeb. "We need to get to Coruscant from wherever it is."

Hera frowned to herself. "..I should have asked Kanan for some possibilities." _Or..maybe questioned him further at least_. She looked at the older two. "How much do you know about all this? My family were involved in the Separatist war on Ryloth, but I only remember holonews from the time about the wider conflict."

Zeb shrugged. "Heard some bits and pieces, but Lasan kept to itself. I know they're not bucketheads at least." He nodded towards the clone troopers, who seemed to be coming off the worse for the meeting with the droids.

Sabine looked slightly embarrassed. "Mandalore was more on the Separatist side," she hedged. "My knowledge of it might be a bit one-sided." Hera coughed, remembering again that Sabine's upbringing had been Imperial and her planet historically against the Republic even before that.

"Well, the Inquisitor wants to get to Master Kenobi before he can change the beacon, doesn't he?" started Ezra. Hera looked over to him as he continued. "He was trying to get Kanan to remember the _end_ of the Clone War. That narrows it down, doesn't it?"

Hera pursed her lips as she scanned her memory. "You're right. The Outer Rim Sieges was the last stage of the war. Seemed like another Rim planet was retaken by the Republic every week in the last six months. Ord Mantell, Mandalore, Dathomir were all active late on. Urce, Mygeeto, Kaller. But he needed it to be the very end." Her face darkened as she realised more viscerally what she'd known logically.

Zeb's eyes narrowed at the skirmish ahead. The droids were down about half, but the clones had started with fewer men and their losses had whittled them down severely. Another dropped, shot in the back, and the last three banded together. They were going to be cut down.

The _whuum_ of a lightsaber caught Ezra's attention again and he looked over to the far right. A blue blaze had just cut into the droid unit, whirling like the green flash had earlier and to much the same effect. The blue flame retreated, spinning back to its owner's hand. The clones had an opening and took it, mowing down the droids with renewed energy. In seconds, the tide had turned and perhaps half a minute later, the last of the droids was down.

"It's won," said the Jedi as he approached the trio, his lightsaber snapping off. "Commander Dulkuth is surrendering to General Billaba. General Kleeve has fled. The droids are standing down." The voice sounded absurdly youthful under the calm confidence, and Hera narrowed her eyes at him.

"See to the wounded, boys," said one of the clones, taking charge of the remnants of his group, nodding respectfully to the Jedi. "Thanks for the save, Commander. Didn't see us getting through that."

"Wish I'd been sooner," said the Jedi ruefully, looking to the fallen of the squad. "They had these rogue skirmish groups everywhere." The captain nodded with a grunt of agreement. "They're picking up tricks."

"Sir," one of the clones interjected, indicating that the man he was kneeling beside needed medical attention. Two did, the rest were beyond it. The Captain saluted the Jedi, indicating they were heading out. The Jedi saluted acknowledgement and turned away to head towards another group of fallen further away, crouching beside ones that might still be alive.

…***…

Caleb Dume would never deal well with this consequence of battle. He moved between the fallen figures, checking them for life and fearing coming across one of his own friends amongst them. If insignias were destroyed and there were no obvious facial scars or marks, there was a sense of guilt that he wasn't quite sure if this face was that of a friend or stranger. But Master Billaba took full part in the search for the wounded and even six months in, the fourteen year old was determined that his age or inexperience wouldn't be a burden and he took the same jobs that his Master did, only retreating from them when his master herself vetoed it. She was doing so less these days, he knew. Either he was succeeding or she was accepting that the Separatists would take no more mercy on a fourteen-year old than a forty-year old and she couldn't protect him from the consequences of war.

A hand grasped his wrist and Caleb looked away from the dead clone and to the man beside him. He felt a pang of guilt that he had dismissed the body as dead and moved to the more intact man beside him first.

"I'm here, it's over," he said quietly, trying to reassure the man, whose legs had been blown off and whose arm and chest were a mangled crush of flesh, bone and broken armour. He started to lift his comm. to report in for medical aid but didn't complete the gesture. There was no use. He opened the man's helm carefully, feeling the automatic flash of dread and hope that it wasn't one of his friends.

It wasn't, as far as he could tell. The man's fingers flexed again on his wrist as he tried to speak. Caleb tried to hear what he was saying, catching syllables.

"We won, they surrendered," he replied, hoping he had it right. Apparently he did as the brown eyes showed understanding. He glanced to an insignia on the man's left shoulder and scanned his memory. "Your unit came through, I saw them near General Billaba as it ended." He'd seen enough of them to make the statement true enough at least. He felt another faint pressure on his wrist before the expression faded out of the man's eyes.

After a moment, Caleb closed the fallen soldier's eyes and glanced around before straightening up. He could feel there was no-one else alive here. And yet, something was still bothering him as he looked around at the relatively desolate area and then scanned across the dark treeline. Nothing that he could see or feel. The warm evening air had suddenly had a chill, or... something like it. His expression stiffened, but he turned to head back towards his own lines, keeping a wary eye on the now silent and still droids.

…***…

The hurried conversation had stopped as the blaster-fire ceased, none of them wanting to be overheard. While the Jedi sounded young, none of them were sure enough about how sensitive he'd be to their presence and Ezra's voice in particular carried. Hera held her breath until he'd moved away towards a group of fallen clones and droids and then let it out, able to focus on information she hadn't particularly needed for some time.

"You were saying about where we might be, Hera?" Sabine looked over to her. Hera seemed to have by far the best grasp of the situation so far.

"You were explaining the perfectly obvious, Captain Syndulla, please do go on." A bored voice, with a streak of malevolence a mile wide. The Spectres reacted instantly, turning and aiming on the figure between the trees who was standing in full view, holding his saber unlit.

"I don't advise that," he said mildly. "The young Jedi will hear you and the Jedi of this time have _no_ idea of what an Inquisitor can do." He smiled. Hera's lip curled in frustration and she kept her blaster trained on him but held fire. That his weapon wasn't lit indicated the Inquisitor also didn't want to attract attention.

"What do you want then?" growled Zeb, keeping his voice low, but with a wary scowl.

"I want to know what happened to my Sister, who should be here in your place." He bared his teeth as he spoke, dark energy swelling and ebbing around him. Even though the Spectres couldn't necessarily see it, even those not Force-sensitive could feel the sensation of menace reach out for them.

"We dropped a piller on 'er," grunted Zeb bluntly. "Squashed her flat."

Rage swelled in the Inquisitor's face and he took a step towards them. The Spectres backed up, fingers tightening on triggers, and he paused with a snarl.

"Out on the Outer Rim, when there was a high chance of being in the Temple itself when Kenobi crept in. But I accepted that chance and at least I know where to hunt for the troublesome ones now." He smiled with the spite of a slighted man who has the perfect revenge in his grasp. "I know at least _one_ Jedi escaped this planet at least."

Hera glanced back a moment as he was speaking, hoping the Jedi had moved away by now and stifled a breath as the boy looked across the treeline, familiar green eyes seeming to scan her own as he looked past. She turned back quickly as the Inquisitor added his stinger. The implications of his words washed over her and she felt a chill down her spine as to what it meant for Kanan, this boy as he was now and here - and what it meant for them all. Everyone was aware of the basic rules for the hypothetical idea of time travel, it came up in adventure holonovels and space dramas often enough, and they all seemed sensible. At best, they could end up trapped here. At worst, they could end up never having existed at all. As a series of their adventures crossed her mind and the impacts both small and less so they had had, about what that would mean for the places they'd helped and their successes so far, she knew that that was a bad outcome for more than just the _Ghost_ crew.

The Inquisitor glanced past them as the Jedi moved off. "Still, there might be time," he mused, before looking dismissively back to the Spectres. "I am sure you will try and stop me, and it will amuse me to see you try," he added as he stared across the four. _Two children, and two slave species. Even the boy, while having potential with the Force, is so inexperienced as to be a liability_. The Brother smiled thinly. While he had no qualms about killing what he had recognised as at least a padawan, it would be better not to do it while there was a risk of one of the Masters discovering his presence. He had never particularly wished to engage Depa Billaba. These four, however, were laughable. He gave them a mocking smile and decided it was a good moment to make his exit, savouring the pangs of anger and fear he was provoking.

Zeb growled under his breath, finger tightening on the trigger again at the tempting target of the Inquisitor's back. He hated that they were powerful enough to be able to completely disregard the crew's threat. He didn't pull it. There was no point.

Ezra turned to Hera once the Inquisitor was gone. Now he could feel the baleful sense fade and he felt furious that he'd missed it before. He wasn't sure if it had struck as forcefully as he'd felt it just before the Inquisitor spoke or if he had been too distracted by watching a Jedi in battle. "We have to protect Kanan," he said urgently, his chin setting stubbornly.

"We will," replied Hera grimly as she met his eyes. "He said that there was a beacon calling Jedi to Coruscant, so that's where he'll go. The Inquisitor is going to wait until after the order is given. That's when he'll be vulnerable."

"So…" Ezra's expression fell as he took in the implications as well as the facts. He knew of Order 66, he knew Kanan didn't like to talk about it and he knew why he and his master were entirely possibly the only Jedi left in the galaxy. Everything about this was going to be awful.

Hera felt a twinge of unease as well, seeing his look. As well as everything else, she was becoming more steadily aware that this was going to be an intense experience of something that their friend kept very private. She didn't even know his name here and now. She hadn't really made any assumptions about where he was during the Clone Wars. Much like herself, she had thought he must have been too young to be involved in it. But they were standing on the edge of a battlefield and the ridiculously young-sounding green-eyed boy held the rank of commander.

Hera had experience of the cruelties of the Empire – she had seen it long before she'd met Kanan, long before she'd really attracted the Empire's attention and even in the time they'd come to work together, the casual evil of Lord Vidian and the murder of Lal Grellik. The grisly nature of that killing had ensured that name remained burned somewhere in Hera's mind. Zeb would probably take it in his stride, his experience of the genocide of his people had long-since robbed any innocence of the Empire's vile tactics. Sabine…Hera always felt a bit torn about Sabine. She came from a warrior race, she was extremely confident in her abilities and used them enthusiastically in killing Imperials and/or causing destruction that certainly resulted in death. She was also seventeen and not long seventeen at that. Still, she'd cope with anything war threw at her. Ezra though. He was very young and this was going to hit him hard. He was looking at her now, trusting her to know what to do and willing to follow and hold his own for it. She wished she had adult Kanan here as well. But she didn't, and the plan to stop an enemy far more powerful than them fifteen years in the past during a genocide was going to have to be hers. Hera's eyes narrowed as she glanced back to the battlefield. She would figure out a way. She had to.

…***…

 _Kaller_ ,

The Spectres had found a safe spot. It was behind a ridge on rising ground amongst trees and overlooked the farthest end of the clearing, which was split into fields by a small village. The army were camped outside rather than in the village, groups collected around campfires. Zeb's sharp eyesight had spotted the Jedi Master, a tall Chalactan woman by her looks. They angled themselves to keep an eye on that campfire, staying down low.

The overall atmosphere from the camp below seemed to be subdued celebration. Snatches of conversation or laughter sometimes reached the Spectres on the ridge as the breeze changed direction, although they could rarely pick up where any particular word came from. Another figure in Jedi robes had joined the woman Hera identified as General Billaba, a Miralukan with a dark brown bandage covering his upper face. He seemed to be injured, using a long cane and it wasn't long before he retreated back to a medical tent near the centre of the campsite. The boy from earlier had joined them after training out at the side of the camp with his Master for a couple of hours. Hera had pointed him out to the rest of the group, and noted that Ezra's attention had been firmly on the training session between master and padawan for the length of it.

"They all seem very easy with each other," commented Sabine uneasily after a while. She knew the basic course of events, the Jedi were declared traitors and the clones suppressed them, turned on them, betrayed them. With the balance of everything she had come to learn outside of what was generally accepted on Mandalore and the Empire about the event, along with a healthy respect for her people's disdain of betrayal, especially to military leaders, foreknowledge was making her tense.

"I don't know that anyone really knows what actually happened," said Hera thoughtfully. "Most of the information about it was from the Empire's sources. Whatever the truth was, it was papered over quickly enough with the Emperor's accusations. Anyone who saw it first-hand didn't speak of it openly and probably didn't know the full story either." She frowned, looking back at the field. The boy was sitting with a pair of helm-less clones around the campfire, the body language of the group relaxed as they chatted. Depa Billaba approached and joined them, the group making room for her easily.

…***…

Caleb shifted his feet closer to the fire. This part of battlefield campaign he did enjoy. They had won. Kaller was _nearly_ retaken. He had been able to talk with Master Billaba again this evening before training and he felt generally at peace with the galaxy. He'd miss some things about the end days of the Separatist wars, the friends he'd made amongst the clones. Maybe they'd continue moving between the planets, acting as the protective force of the Republic, along with their particular squad of clone soldiers. He glanced around the group. He missed Stance. Grey was still there though, and Caleb hoped he'd be coming with them wherever they went next. Grey nodded to him as he sat down. "Carrus will come through, commander. He's recovering."

Caleb's face brightened up. "Glad to hear it, Captain Grey."

"Was talking with Captain Gunner. He was grateful someone was with CL-8316." Caleb nodded, his expression shadowing a moment. He met his friend's eye a moment, a certain understanding passing from the older soldier to the younger one, before Caleb looked to Depa. "Meant to say before, thanks for coming to my rescue by the tree, Master." He made a face. "I got pinned down."

"You got drawn out," pointed out his master meaningfully. Caleb shrugged.

"I know, but I was needed over there. I didn't know the flanking unit was going to come out _right_ there. But I knew they were sending one."

Depa Billaba gave him an expression that mixed a certain fond amusement with both exasperation and interest. It was a talent of her young padawan's, and she was never quite certain how much was down to his Force instincts signalling events about to happen and how much was his already well-developed turn for strategy. It was a combination she was eager to encourage in him. If it didn't get her padawan killed. She didn't scold him further, particularly not in front of Styles and Grey, two clones to whom they'd both grown close. Close enough that her reprimand so far wouldn't cause awkwardness. And overall, he had done very well. She was proud of how quickly her young student was growing. He had carried himself well during the campaign in skirmishes and outright battle. She tried both to forget and not to forget that he was still only barely fourteen. That he was here at all was a dark necessity of war.

"That was a classic move for fighting against Jedi in a group," she explained to him, her legs folded neatly beneath her. "Heavy focussed fire from the front, skirmishers engaging from the sides. Especially if the Jedi is pinned against something."

Caleb considered this, frowning. Ah. Yes, in retrospect, the entire unit of them had seemed to know very well what they were doing and had penned him in smartly. He leaned his chin on his drawn-up knees, hooking his arms around them as he listened intently. Grey and Styles were nodding agreement.

"Seen it done too. Saw General Kee-Un fall on Urce to something like that," put in Grey thoughtfully. "Drew off his padawan and lured him into a trap in a ravine. We couldn't get to either of them in time."

Depa nodded once. "I remember. He was a friend." She glanced to her padawan again and noted the boy had gone very quiet. He was an intelligent boy. She knew that he had picked up that his getting pinned down drew others into danger. His friends amongst the troopers and her.

"I will remember, Master," he said finally, meeting her eyes. Depa's brown gaze met the bright green one and she nodded with an affectionate smile.

"I know, my padawan. And your instincts were correct. Just bring back-up next time."

Caleb nodded again, accepting the gentle reprimand and the overall approval both. It was because Depa was never hesitant about showing either her pride in him or her disappointment that Caleb could accept her views easily, respecting the older Jedi's experience. Also, she was willing to explain things, knowing that his mind was the sort that needed to _understand_ to remember. If she had just scolded him and told him he needed to stay closer by her in battle, he would have been more inclined to resent it. Now he knew that what had happened out there, when he'd gone from hunter to prey, was a deliberate and developed tactic for peeling off lone Jedi and he would avoid the situation again. Caleb knew well that he was very fortunate, despite the whispers of the other younglings after her almost deadly injuries at the end of her last deployment, to have Master Billaba's teaching on the battlefield. In battle, she was almost invincible (at least in the eyes of her student), her tactics strong and sound and her skill legendary. He learned from her almost every second they were fighting together. Except when he let himself get drawn out and pinned to a tree, at least.

She rose to her feet. Although the battle was won and the war surely nearly over, despite Separatist General Kleeve's flight, she wouldn't lighten up on Caleb's training. There was still too much at stake. Caleb was good in battle; for his age and training level, he was excellent, holding his own well enough that his presence wasn't the distraction to her she had feared it might be. But she still needed to keep drilling him. Good wouldn't always be enough. Her padawan wouldn't fall on the battlefield to "not good enough" if Depa Billaba could do anything about it. For now though, she needed to meditate and rest her mind. She dipped her head to the group and made her farewells. The two clones nodded respectfully, but also with the ease of personal friendship. Caleb gave her a flash of his beaming smile and she smiled back as she turned to head to the side of the camp, outside the glow spread by the flames. She had made the right choice of padawan, despite his youth. They worked well together, and while Master Billaba had never been inclined to take on students, she had discovered the joys of training a keen young mind. She knelt some distance away and closed her eyes.

…***…

"I can't stand the waiting," mumbled Zeb. Hera couldn't blame him. It was putting them all on edge.

"I don't think anything's going to happen now," said Sabine softly. "Maybe the Inquisitor got it wrong, had Kanan focus too early?"

Ezrs frowned, lying on his stomach and looking down into the field below with the campfires creating pools of light that strengthened as the light waned. "I don't understand why we're waiting at all," he muttered into his the fist his chin was leaning on.

"The Inquisitor won't attack Ka-" She hesitated. Whoever he was here. "Kanan until he can be sure an army isn't going to come to his assistance. He's going to stay around here until ..it happens. If we want to protect him, we need to be here." _Unless it's a trick to keep us here while he flies to Coruscant_ , flashed through her mind. There was always that chance. But her instinct was telling her that the Inquisitor had been in earnest.

Ezra glared at the campsite. "I don't mean that. We're just waiting and _this_ is going to happen," he said quietly, but with some force. "How do we know these rules mean anything?"

Sabine folded her arms. "I don't like it either, Ezra, but even I know that one. Kanan opened this thing in the future. We came back here from then, we stop this from happening - somehow - and it all works out to that we never came in the first place. Besides, it happened all over the galaxy. Even knowing what's going to happen, we can't stop it."

Ezra glared at her and pushed himself to his feet, pointing off to his side at the camp. "They're going to _die,"_ he lashed at her, and Zeb immediately clapped a hand over his mouth to stop his high voice informing the entire army of the future. Ezra's eyes glinted angrily, but he kept his mouth shut as he shoved Zeb's hand away and stalked off far enough to recover his temper.

The other three looked at each other. Zeb rubbed at his head. "I can see the kid's point," he admitted.

"So do I," agreed Hera. "And Kanan would be the first to tell us not to do it. He _did._ Do you think I don't know how tempting it is to change the past?" She sighed and rubbed at her head. There were times she hated being the sensible one. Times when it would be far more satisfying to do the stupid, irresponsible thing that had about 0.1% chance of working and a 99.9% chance of causing chaotic damage. She shook her head and moved after Ezra.

.

Ezra was sitting behind a tree, still overlooking the camp, arms around his drawn-up knees and leaning his chin on them. Hera moved up beside him, leaning against the tree and looked down at a distant Jedi Master kneeling in meditation.

"I want to warn them," said Hera after a moment. "Tell them what's coming. But all of this is the past, Ezra. The only thing we should change is what the Inquisitor does. None of us belong here. And if we go down there and try to warn the General, and she actually believes us, and somehow the Jedi on this planet escaped, this took places on hundreds of worlds across the galaxy. However it happened, it didn't start here. We can't stop Order 66. But even if we save the Jedi on this planet..." She sat down, unconsciously adopting a similar position to Ezra's. "Then the Empire still rises, the boy back there never becomes Kanan Jarrus, I never meet him on Gorse, Zeb dies on Lasan and Sabine in space, and we never find you. Or come to Belior II to do any of this."

Ezra groaned, pressing his eyes against his knees. "I understand, I get it. Well, I don't. But I kinda do. I just don't like it."

"I don't like it either. But the other thing holding me back is that this is ...Kanan's. I didn't even know he was in the war. And given he knew what was going to happen, he still urged us not to change anything that the Inquisitor hadn't already changed. If he lived it and can still warn me not to change the past...that has to be good enough for me. About the only thing I do know about his master is that he felt guilt for her death." She mentally apologised to Kanan for speaking about it. But it had been inevitable. The entire mission was far more of a breach of privacy than her trying to explain things to Ezra. "If there was a way to save her, he would. Unless he had a very strong reason for it."

Ezra sighed deeply, looking down at Depa Billaba at the edge of the campsite below. "She's going to die, isn't she?" he said quietly. "She must be Kanan's master, unless it was the Miralukan earlier."

Hera exhaled too, leaning her chin on her knees. "She died fifteen years ago, Ezra. Our job here is to stop the Inquisitor, before he kills the few that survived. Including Kanan."

"The Inquisitor is presumably hanging around somewhere though," he replied, looking away from the kneeling Jedi master down below and scanning the treeline at the far side of the camp.

"Well, he has to wait as much as we do," replied Hera with a sigh, taking her eyes off the campsite below. "Tomorrow, we'll go to the village as travellers and at least find out where exactly we are and _when_."

"Guess we better remember not to use the Empire dating system," added Ezra with a wry twist to his lips, trying to control his dark mood and not take it out on Hera. He could see she was struggling with this too. "It'd be a little previous of us."

Hera blinked and snorted quietly. "So much to remember with time travel," she agreed quietly. "Although there were so many right before the Empire was declared that most planets just used their own systems. It's not exactly _settled_ uh..back in our when either if it comes to that." She considered that and gave up on finding correct tenses for their situation. "Anyway, there's no point us all staring at the camp all night. Get some rest if you can, Ezra, I'll take first watch." She straightened up. "Come back over to us when you're ready. I don't want us separated with the Inquisitor hanging around."

Ezra nodded and straightened up too, taking the precaution of moving back below the lip of the ridge first. "I'll come." _It's far too tempting to go down there otherwise. And as much as I hate it, they're right_. He glared down at the camp again, then rubbed his face and followed Hera.

.

Ezra was delayed a few moments behind Hera, his overly-large wrap catching on the undergrowth. By the time he had extricated himself and followed her back to their clearing, she had apparently said much the same thing to the other two about taking watches.

"Yeah, I'll take over from you in a bit then," replied Zeb, slinking back away from the ridge before stretching.

"I'll take late watch then," added Sabine. "Ezra can have morning shift." Ezra nodded, not about to particularly argue with getting one of the easier shifts. No-one liked the mid-night watches. Besides, it was more likely the Master and Padawa- _Kanan_ , he reminded himself, would be training first thing in the morning too. He wanted to see that again. And see what he recognised from his master's current fighting style. He shuffled back into a hollow in the tree he had claimed earlier, leaning against and pulled his cloak more snugly around him. One of the benefits of being small, the cloak was like a tent. Even if it rained, he'd probably stay dry under it. Unlike Zeb, who was more carrying his cloak on his shoulders than wearing it. He curled up, deciding to get as much rest as possible while he could and tucked his head into the cloth. His mood was still dark anyway, stomach tensed about the whole situation. Hera watched out of the corner of her eye, amused. The young padawan was very well disguised as a tree-root once he'd tucked himself up. She reached over and loosely flicked a fold of material to cover a small flash of orange jumpsuit near what she figured was an elbow.

Sabine grinned, tugging her own cloak more around her. "Kick some of the fallen leaves and needles over him and no-one would suspect a thing," she offered.

"Gerroff," came a mumble from the cloak-heap. "Don't want mud and leaves down my neck. Hard enough getting all this ash out."

Sabine looked tempted even so, but found herself another nook to settle herself into. "Maybe we can find some travelling robes or something," she added. "I'm not leaving my armour behind but even I'll admit it's a little noticeable."

"Yeah, me in travelling robes. I'll look like a spacehead," grumbled the large Lasat. "Don't exactly make'em in my size, and I don't think we're goin' to find a Lasat-friendly shop."

"We could go to Hutt space and see if we can pick you up anything," needled Sabine, stretching her legs in front of her. Zeb snorted.

"You making up for Chopper being left behind or something?"

Hera settled back to keep watch on the camp, letting the promising squabble behind her either escalate until she needed to put her foot down or it faded off into her crew getting some rest.

…***…

Caleb stretched tiredly. One thing about being in the field, he always slept well, with the specific exception of the night before an expected combat, when he was keyed up and had to fight the tension by meditating with his Master. After a battle though, and especially when Master Billaba decided that he'd not had quite enough during it and took him for physical training afterwards, he was more than ready to sleep like a rock. Captain Styles rose before he was able to though, glancing at his comm.

"Incoming message, excuse me, commander, Grey." He nodded to them and the pair nodded back. Caleb decided to stay where he was a few moments longer, rather than rudely leave Grey alone. Not that the man would mind, but Master Billaba was extremely correct on protocol and courtesy towards the clone troopers.

 _._

 _"I don't entirely agree with Jedi being generals for the clone army," she had told him. "They are soldiers. We can act as soldiers, but we are not. We are needed in the field, but I would prefer trained and battle-experienced soldiers to act as their mens' leaders than Jedi who must prove themselves first. And too many people treat the clones as tools rather than people."_

 _"The Jedi don't," Caleb had responded with a frown. "I know we're not_ really _supposed to use their names rather than their …designations, but the Jedi do. It's … it feels rude to call them by numbers."_

 _Depa had sighed. "It does. They might be clones, but they are all people with their own personalities and feelings. The Republic Council needs to bear that in mind with the cloning program. But we Jedi have little control over that. All we have control over is how we treat them."_

 _._

Caleb looked over to Grey. "Do you reckon we'll be moved to another planet? Kleeve aside, the Kaller Separatists are nearly out of units. They can't win now, unless they suddenly pull a major invasion out of somewhere."

Grey drummed his fingers loosely on his knee. "Doubt they can. The troops they have on the last holdouts are what they have. They can't retake Kaller without emptying another planet, unless we miss a droid factory somewhere. We might move out to Breena I. They've got a nasty redoubt up in the hills that the raiding parties are coming from. Suspicions that they do have at least a small-scale droid production op in the wildlands that Republic forces haven't been able to reach."

Caleb nodded. "Mhm, I hope so. I'm glad we're winning, it's ending, but…"

Grey gave the boy an amused look. "…But you've not quite seen enough yet." Caleb looked a little embarrassed.

"Well, is that so bad?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. "Didn't think I'd get to see any of it. Not sure I want to just go back to the Temple and things go back to normal just yet."

Styles turned back towards the group, Caleb seeing the movement out of the corner of one eye. His blaster was in his hand. Grey was just about to answer when Styles spoke, his words drowned out by a cry from Depa Billaba.

 _"Caleb! Look out!"_

Caleb reacted even before he knew what was happening, his lightsaber activating as a blaster shot whined past him. His first thought was that they were under attack by rogue Separatists but the second shot came from under the cold brown eyes of Captain Grey.

…***…

It really had happened that quickly. Hera had been watching, but had allowed her mind to wander. She had been watching Master Billaba, interested in her absolute stillness. Even from here, just watching the silent Jedi was somehow soothing, the woman seeming completely in tune with her surroundings. Then suddenly her eyes shot open and Hera heard the distant words on the wind.

 _"Caleb! Look out!"_

Then suddenly the cosy-looking campfire down in the field below had erupted into blaster fire, two lightsabers springing into life. And the camp was boiling as clone troopers massed out of tents and from around campfires, swarming towards the command tent, a smaller stream descending on the medical bay. She was so taken-aback by the perfect unison of the mass that it took her a moment to urgently hiss to the rest of the Spectres.

 _This isn't right, this was_ **planned _,_** shot across her mind. There was no way that even an army as disciplined as the clones could have spread an order so rapidly through the ranks. There was no uncertainty or confusion down below. The clones and the two Jedi were now distinctly on opposite sides and the clones were giving no quarter.

The other three had been alerted by the distant shout and Zeb was first to her side, the big warrior always alert for danger. Sabine was next and Ezra struggled over, his cloak catching on a tree branch.

"Whoah," muttered Ezra, scanning over the field below, his eyes huge.

Despite the shock of the sudden betrayal, the two lightsabers had found each other in the twilight, and were working in unison beside each other. Blaster fire rained heavily on them from all sides, and the shots were being deflected rapidly, clones falling as "friendly" fire struck them. But the entire field was boiling like a hive now, clones pouring from other camps into the main one, rapidly becoming an army against the two defending themselves. While it was awful to watch, knowing more or less the outcome and knowing that the same scene was taking place right now on countless planets, it was also mesmerising to watch Jedi, once legendary fighters of the galaxy, taking on an entire army alone. Ezra watched, enthralled and horrified both. The green lightsaber flashed almost too quickly to be seen, mere blurs of green energy. His attention kept flicking between the incredible speed and skill of the green one to the precise deflections of the blue. Fewer clones were falling on that side, but Blue was still holding his own and the troopers were unable to get closer.

"Grey, _why_?" A distant cry, the boy appealing to the friend of moments before. There was no let-up in the fire.

Zeb growled, ears back and tense and his fingers twitching on his bo-rifle as he took in the overall field rather than just the centre of it. A large strike force was moving around the campfire's limits, under the Spectres' position and cutting off the relatively shorter distance out of the camp to the east of the site. The two Jedi were backing in their direction, obviously hoping to break through to the relative shelter of the forest.

"They're going to get hemmed in," he muttered to Hera, who nodded shortly, seeing the same manoeuvre. _Don't interfere_ , she told herself firmly. Even if they could. But the four of them weren't going to be able to do much against an army, even as plans flashed across her minds, mostly involving distractions and explosions. It was too late for those now.

…***…

Down in the midst of it, Caleb tried to shake off the shock of the sudden betrayal. Back to back with Master Billaba, feeling like he was in a nightmare that he couldn't wake up from, he deflected bolts with precise strikes. The first few, he hadn't been able to deflect to the clones, to his _friends_. But he saw white-armoured figures falling from his Master's strokes and steeled himself. Whatever was happening, if he didn't fight to the utmost of his ability, he and his master would both die. He stared at Grey across the campfire, the man's blaster lighting up as he fired on him, his eyes cold and unrecognising.

"Grey, _why_?" he demanded desperately, searching the man's eyes for any hint of the friendship they had shared only moments before. Nothing. The eyes were as dead of expression as a droid's, beyond an intent single-mindedness on killing them. His Master was starting to move behind him, drawing him away from the campfire and towards the east. He remembered the layout of the camp now. If they had been any more central, there would have been no hope of escape. Deflect, move, slash as one came too close. He hoped the man who now lay at his feet hadn't been a friend. If any of them had ever been friends. His eyes narrowed and he felt the pattern of battle overtake him, moving as much by instinct as plan. _Don't think, move. They look like friends, but they're_ not _on your side_.

The Jedi were carving their way slowly to the edge. Hera couldn't entirely make out how they were still alive. The red blaster fire was constant, a sheet of energy crackling between the semi-circle of troopers and the Jedi. The sheet was breaking up as it struck into lightsabers that flashed and swept, sending the crackling bolts back in waves and wild sparks. Hera felt a sudden movement beside her, in the corner of her vision. The flanking unit was almost in position below, but then there was a sudden energy burst amongst them. Something had exploded. Hera looked sharply to Sabine who gave her a worried and partly defiant expression.

"It's already happened, right?" she murmured to her. "They were about to be cut off."

Hera glanced back to the battle. The stor- clone troopers (attacking two Jedi, they looked even more like stormtroopers and it was getting harder to remember) didn't seem to have any idea where the explosion had come from and the strike force was momentarily in confusion. It had also alerted the Jedi to the danger they were in.

Depa half-turned and sent a blistering wave of Force-energy towards the flanking line as it recovered, splitting it and hurling soldiers to the left and right into their comrades. "Caleb, _go_ ," she cried. "I'll be right behind you!" She twisted to take Caleb's position rearguard, leaving the forward route his only option. She felt his hesitancy and gave him a mental push to break his frozen state.

"Go! Before it closes again!"

She felt Caleb make a break for it towards the gap. His lightsaber hummed as he hit the gauntlet running, deflecting shots coming from both sides.

"Focus fire on the boy!" came Styles' roar from behind and Caleb spun to defend himself, searching for his Master. With a sinking realisation, he saw her still back at the other end of the gauntlet, which was already closing.

"Master!" he yelled back to her, starting back towards the group. Depa was struggling alone, the clones were too close and hemming her in from all sides. His moment's distraction was nearly fatal as Styles and his group took turned heavy blaster fire on him.

.

Depa Billaba was going to die and she knew it even as she kept fighting. She wasn't fighting for herself now, but for her padawan. _Caleb, you_ will _survive this_. Her padawan was hesitating. She saw him turn and see her, his face white and focussed far too much on her and not enough on the clones turning on him.

" _Master_!"

"Run, Caleb!" she cried desperately, feeling the shots about to be loosed on her student. She abandoned her defence, turning in a heartbeat to throw another Force-shove towards Styles, knowing that his shot would kill Caleb if she couldn't prevent it-

Fire exploded into her back, but Styles' shot had gone wild. She fell, her saber winking out. She could see the white boots of the clone troopers as they surrounded her, hear Grey's voice somewhere above.

"A traitor's end," he said and she knew she would never understand why they had been betrayed by their own. Then fire drilled into her. She heard her padawan's distant scream and in her last few moments told him again in her mind to run, hoping he'd feel her love through their bond before it shattered. _Just survive this and I die gladly, my-_

She was gone. Although his arms still moved rapidly, his lightsaber still deflecting, Caleb was nowhere near the fight, his full attention on the clones as they surrounded his master and fired into the body on the ground repeatedly. Long after he felt their bond snap, her life ended, her body still jerked as the close-range blaster fire shook it. He screamed her name, the high, shrill sound far more like a horrified boy than a padawan considered adult enough to be in the field.

Now all the clones were turning on him. His mind snapped back to where he was as the focussed fire redoubled, more blasters joining in. Grey and Styles' cold faces boring into his mind, he knew that either he ran now or he died where he stood. He sent a desperate blast of energy out in front of him, a wave that spread through the front ranks, throwing blasters wild and shoving men into one another. Then he fled, darting for the forest. A few shots whined after him from those fastest to recover, and his blade was still there, although the deflections expended themselves harmlessly in the ground.

.

Hera, sickened herself, placed a comforting hand on Ezra's arm as she felt him freeze at the horror of what was going on below, his hand darting for Kanan's lightsaber under his cloak. Sabine had moved in a bit closer to the boy as well, not entirely sure that Ezra might not do something impulsive. She threw her arm over him, both as a rough comfort and to prevent him from doing so. She wasn't sure she wouldn't join in if he did, furious eyes scanning the clone troopers, her fingers itching for another bomb. Ezra kept trying to duck down, to look away as the older Jedi went down, but his eyes were drawn to it, and to the brutal execution that followed. He made a quiet retching sound under the desolate howl from below. The boy was at the treeline, almost directly under them, frozen in shock.

"Run kid, or they'll have you," mumbled Zeb under his breath, his hands still on his bo-rifle. He set his lips and trained it on one of the Clone commanders down below. Interference or not, they were getting Kanan – Caleb – out of this. Hera didn't move to stop him this time. Beyond the Outer Rim with the rules.

And the boy was gone, finally giving up on the battle and running into the forest. It was hard to tell if it was terror or the Force giving him speed as the blue flash winked out, leaving the trees around him in darkness again.

The Spectres had no time to think about anything that had just happened, awoken to their own predicament now as the clone captains below made a gesture to the forest, the one Caleb had addressed as Grey staying back as the other took a unit towards the edge of the woodland. Other units were starting to split up now too, forming a wide wave along the treeline and moving methodically into it. They were going to comb the woods until they found Ka- Caleb, and the Spectres were now right in the line of movement. Hera gestured urgently to the group, wriggling backwards. They sprang up as soon as they were out of sight from the clearing below and, with no real options other than east, fled into the darkness as well.

The Spectres didn't slow until the sounds of crashing feet had long-faded behind them. Hera looked back as they filtered into a clearing, even Zeb sounding hard of breath. Ezra was last in, his relatively shorter legs not built for marathons. He folded over, panting. Sabine kept moving, keeping her legs loose and wincing as they burned with the sudden, prolonged activity. Hera was winded too and worse, she had no idea of where they were or where might be safe. They might be able to talk their way out of trouble with the clones if they came across them. Or they might not. Hera really didn't want to find out. Her glance caught Zeb's and she saw by the grim expression in his eyes that he too was thinking about their chances.

.

A noise. Hera's head flicked to the side as she caught the sound of footsteps running towards their position. She grabbed Ezra's arm and yanked him towards cover, the four only barely slipping into the shadows of the undergrowth before a figure stumbled into the clearing, his breaths coming sharp and shallow as he leaned against a tree.

At least he couldn't possibly hear them under his sobbing breaths. Hera froze as the wide green eyes flicked around the clearing and then sharply away, back the way he had come. Now she heard more footsteps. They hadn't been far behind him. She felt Sabine's body tense beside her and kept her hand lightly on Ezra's shoulder. Of all of them, she expected him to impulsively break out to defend the boy who would become his master. And it could – would – get him killed. Ezra was nowhere near the other boy's skill right now, and Caleb couldn't hold them off alone either.

For just a millisecond, it looked like Caleb was about to dart for their hiding place and Hera tensed, wondering just what the hell to do if he suddenly joined them. But then his attention turned upwards. He crouched a moment before leaping straight up, grabbing for a thick overhanging treebranch and pulling himself up.

 _Smart kid_ , she thought with some relief. It wasn't an obvious hiding place. Well, unless you were able to jump like that. Now she just had to hope that _their_ hiding place was good enough.

Two clone troopers stumped into the clearing, their movements deliberate and precise. Hera got the feeling that they could hunt like this, patient and steady, forever. The tree above them was absolutely silent.

"I heard something this way, captain," reported one of them. The other raised his visor and Sabine noted the scar across his cheek. It was the captain they'd not caught the name of yet, who seemed to have started the whole thing off. She memorised his face intently, or at least the scar. Someday she might run into this one again. When he wouldn't be protected by not being meant to die by her hand when she was technically two years old.

"He can only have gotten so far." The captain raised his comm. unit. "All remaining troops to comb the forest. Take from east and fan out. Cover the northern sector well, the Jedi will probably make for the main road."

 _How_ _many do you need to find one thirteen or fourteen-year-old boy?_ thought Hera angrily, her fingers tightening on her blaster. _He's barely more than a child_! The urge to fire on these men, to protect the boy hiding in the branches above, was almost overwhelming. She wasn't sure how much of it was because this was a child being hounded to his death and how much was knowing that this boy with the terrified green eyes would eventually meet her on Gorse.

More footsteps and Hera's eyes flicked to the woodland again. These weren't the deliberate, heavy steps of the clone troopers. They were lighter, smaller. _Oh no_ , she thought with a rush of ice through her veins, knowing even before a very small figure burst from the trees and fell into the clearing, hitting the ground hard on hands and knees not five feet from the two clones, that this was no adult. Which meant –

A tiny Twi'lek stared wide-eyed at the two clones. She didn't look more than seven or eight and Hera felt the two on either side of her tense up too. The child scuttled backwards, still on the ground as the clones turned towards her, backing towards the trees, brown eyes fixed in terror on the pair.

"This one came with the Miralukan Jedi Kuso, Captain Styles," stated the trooper, raising his blaster to train it on the child.

"Then Order 66 holds," responded the captain, also aiming on the small figure, who whimpered, curling in on herself hopelessly and raising an arm as if to protect her face.

Hera's finger tightened on the trigger. All the rules had gone out of her mind. It had been hard enough to remember them with Caleb, who was older and mostly very able to defend himself. But the tiny Twi'lek girl was completely helpless. She felt movement from around her, Sabine tensing to spring, Ezra fumbling between the blaster and Kanan's lightsaber. Zeb's bo-rifle crackled into life, but before any of them could move or the clones could react to the sudden noise behind them, there was a crash as Caleb dropped from the tree like a rock, right onto the clone troopers.

.

A part of him had wanted to stay still and silent, not attract attention. He recognised the small child who had arrived with the injured Miralukan Jedi. He still hadn't found out why such a youngling was here, but it looked like she was in the worst place possible. As the troopers trained their weapons on the curled-up figure, he felt a wash of nausea at the similarities to how his master had been executed, on the ground, helpless. He heard a click, the sound of energy humming and it shook him out of his frozen state.

Without thinking any further on it, he rolled out off the treebranch and plummeted straight down, allowing his full weight to hit both troopers. It hurt, the heavy helms striking into his side and shoulder, but both troopers were forced to their knees as he rolled off them, snatching up Styles' dropped blaster as he got to one knee. "Maarje!" he called the child, vaguely remembering her name now. The tiny Twi'lek looked up at him with dawning hope and scrambled across the clearing to duck behind him. He had a moment's disorientation as he backed slowly up from the two troopers, keeping them both covered. His master backing up, protecting her padawan, and now he had to protect a youngling. _Any more of this and Maarje'll be protecting a baby_ he thought wildly. The trooper's hand snapped to his blaster and Caleb fired first, his bolt striking the man's hand and sending the blaster spinning off towards the hedge.

Styles straightened. He had no weapon, but he stared down the Jedi traitor.

"Why? Why did you murder Master Billaba?" The words burst out, needing to _understand_.

"The clone troops are loyal to the Republic, traitor. I am following orders."

"What orders? Why?" The blaster stayed steady even as Caleb felt his voice crack between two octaves. He swallowed hard.

Styles took a step towards him. "I don't think you can kill me, boy," he said quietly, having no qualms about intimidating the kid.

"What orders?" ground out the teenager, backing up a step and keeping the blaster in one hand as he reached back to Maarje with the other. He knew Styles was right. Even after everything that had happened, he couldn't shoot the man who had been his friend in cold blood.

"Surrender or shoot me, Commander Dume, either way the Republic forces will capture you. There is nowhere to run." He took another step closer. Caleb's eyes narrowed.

"You're right; I can't just kill you, Styles," he acknowledged, before flicking the blaster up and firing several shots into the tree above. The branch he had been lying on moments before cracked loose from the precise blasts, splintering and crashing down onto Styles below. A long leafy branch splitting off the first tangled the trooper, who was still gripping his injured hand.

"I _can_ stop you following me though. Come on," he added swiftly to Maarje, gripping her hand and breaking for the trees again, pulling the small child along with him. Her feet were barely touching the forest floor as they fled.

Hera started to back up as soon as Caleb started shooting, wriggling back into the darkness until she felt safe enough to get to her feet, ready to move out again before the rest of the clones arrived. Zeb followed, grabbing the frozen Ezra by his collar and pulling him to join them. As he did, he hissed quietly, hearing both the children in the clearing fleeing behind and seeing danger following.

"The Inquisitor," he snapped, keeping his voice low. That red flash down the path they had come had been no blaster. And it was approaching. Hera turned sharply, her blaster raising. Ezra struggled loose.

"I can lead him off," he said urgently. "He'll be looking for _Kanan's lightsaber_." The import of this and the lightsaber in the teenager's hand drilled the truth of this into Hera. She looked at him for a swift moment, making up her mind. Of all the things she did not want to do, she didn't want to send Ezra alone into the dark with a lightsaber that would draw every damn enemy for miles to him. On the other, he was right. This might be the only way to protect the boy up ahead who had no idea what was coming after him. She nodded sharply.

"Keep your comm. ready. We'll head east and leave marks," she said. "If you don't find us before dawn, circle back to the village. Hide the lightsaber if you have to." They should be relatively safe there by morning. They were of no interest to the clone troopers, so long as they weren't found where they weren't meant to be.

Ezra nodded sharply and as the clones in the clearing headed out after the two children, he darted back along the path, snapping the lightsaber on once he felt far enough from the clones that they wouldn't hear it but close enough to the Inquisitor to get his attention. Deliberately luring in an Inquisitor, he had never felt like quite such a target before, even under Stormtrooper fire.

.

The Brother stalked the forest. He could feel the young Jedi's terror and it called to him. He didn't fear the clones seeing him. The majority were still far behind, combing the nearer reaches. They underestimated the young Force-sensitive. He would not. And there, the flash of blue that betrayed the padawan. He could see the short silhouette, dark hair gleaming blue under the humming energy beam. Then it turned and fled. He turned off the path, patiently hunting, stalking the boy through the forest until his terrified prey dropped from exhaustion.

The Brother had been trained to hunt Jedi. He had been trained very well.

.

Sabine glanced at Hera's stiff expression as Ezra attracted the Inquisitor's attention and then darted off into the forest. The red flash below had curved off the path, disappearing into the heavy treecover after him. It was a dangerous gambit, but she couldn't see a better option either.

"Be safe, Ezra," she muttered under her breath, fingers curled into a fist of frustration at their circumstances. Hera touched her shoulder and indicated the woods. They too had to keep moving, before the rest of the clone army swept over their position.

…***…

 _It is a narrative law that whenever a group of characters are separated in a forest, no matter how big it is nor whether any of them know anything about it, they will all end up in the same clearing._

 _To be honest, it's pretty 50:50 as to whether the Spectres in this situation would have gotten involved and changed things. But this was never intended to be a story of How The Ghost Crew Absolutely Screwed The Galaxy With A Temporal Paradox, so even Ezra is going to see some sense. None of them like it though. Actually, technically they have changed things already...twice so far. And there are consequences to that, although it would be difficult for them to see said consequences from within events._


	4. Chapter 4: Flight Through the Forest

_AN. Sorry it's been a while, I was away. Kept writing though and it all a bit got away from me. Updates shall be more regular now!_

 _Thank you for the review, Casey Storm, glad you're enjoying! Rebels stayed pretty awesome all the way through, so I'm jealous if you still have new Rebels to see :P The Specters can't quite resist the urge to interfere, although they are a bit pressured into it. They're_ trying _anyway :D_

 _._

 _ **Chapter 4: Flight through the Forest**_

.

 _Kaller_

Ezra kept the blade off for the most part now. He didn't think Caleb would be stupid enough to turn on his lightsaber (or if he did, it would only be because someone else was trying to kill him) and he knew very well the Inquisitor was still after him and didn't particularly need to encourage him more. He had continued uphill, circling north and occasionally seeing glimpses of red flash in the dark below. Now he needed a plan. He continued circling the hill, trying to ensure he was keeping a relatively straight path and started on the downhill slope. This section had seen war, or at least natural disaster, the trees scorched to blackened skeletons, the ground inclined to crunch underfoot. While more exposed, Ezra's long cloak and the darkness were still giving some protection.

Halfway down, he thought he'd lost him. He paused, crouched on a tall tree trunk that gaze him a good view of the rolling hills of trees behind. Nothing…

He might have just turned his lightsaber off and hunted silently. Ezra wondered why he was keeping it on. Then he frowned as he remembered the other boy's expression. _He knows Ka-Caleb is not thinking straight. He wants him to_ know _something else is hunting him. Keep him scared_. That Ezra was prey by choice and had no intention of being caught did rather backfire the Inquisitor's intimidation tactic. But if he thought Caleb was fleeing blindly ahead of him, Ezra could use that.

He tensed and crouched again as he suddenly saw the flash, entering the burned ground. Oh, that was far closer than he'd expected it to appear. He leaped like a lothcat, landing on the ground in a crouch and sprang away, sticking with north until he gained some distance again. Then he could lose him with a turn.

Ezra hadn't gone too far along his route when he found an opportunity, or at least one found him. As he passed under two trees that formed a stark upside-down V above him, black and twisted, his foot suddenly sank into nothingness under cinders and ash, his other foot slipped as the soil slid, and he fell into darkness.

The land had been split by some earthquake or cataclysm in its past. It was mostly overgrown now, a rift down amongst thick, gnarled tree-roots. The hollow ran deep enough to become a cave, extending down into the rock below. It was dark. If there was an entrance, presumably rubble and vegetation had filled it in. He flicked the lightsaber on a moment, just long enough to get a glimpse around him and then turned it off again as he gained a mental image of the cave. The walls were close enough on three sides to touch and looked like it descended down into a lower level on the fourth.

He wasn't quite sure if he had a plan from here. Hoping that something horrible in there might eat the Inquisitor was high. He crouched and then jumped, leaping up to grab the edges of the hole and tug himself up, cloak tearing on a jag of rock. He straightened up and then frowned at the gap, getting the inkling of an idea. The Inquisitor had to be close. He looked around and then up at the trees, taking inspiration from Caleb earlier to expand on it. Ezra kicked some sticks over the hole, glanced around once again and then ghosted back into the treeline.

The Inquisitor had seen the faint blue glow as Ezra lit up the cave and the light shone upwards out of the "trapdoor" like a spotlight up a building, sending a faint blue haze up in a rough rectangle. He quickened his pace, feeling the thrill of the hunt, the thrill of the kill approaching, and then slowed again as he crested the hill. Where was the boy? He was close. He kneeled down, tugging lightly at a strip of brown material and then drew some hastily drawn sticks back to reveal a hole down into the depths of a massive fallen tree. It was big enough for a boy to get into easily. It was, in fact, big enough for him to get down into as well. He thrust his lightsaber down into the hole, the _thruuum_ echoing against stone and wood. He could see the immediate chamber was empty, but there was a route further down. The padawan had gone to earth. It might have been good enough to conceal him from the clone troopers, but not from a Jedi hunter.

Ezra held his breath. Was the Inquisitor going to fall for it? He watched so intently that he was worried the Brother would sense his stare and tried to drop his eyes. He didn't quite dare duck back and not be able to see him at all. He had the uncanny feeling that the moment he took his eyes off him, he'd turn around and he'd be right _there_.

He had! He'd fallen for it! Ezra watched the Inquisitor descend into the earth, his face turning slightly blue. He released the breath gingerly and glanced at the delicately balanced trees. Give him a moment…Ezra didn't know how deep the tunnel was. The Inquisitor might shine his saber inside and see it was only a nook. Ezra broke from hiding and bounded like a small tree-rodent up the more precarious-looking of the trees. The lightsaber came out and its hum broke the air a few moments before Ezra struck at the branch that was holding it supported by its neighbour. He looked down between the branches and could have sworn he met the Inquisitor's cold yellow eyes before the tree trunk slammed down over the hole. Ezra hoped he'd caught those spindly grey fingers as well. He leaped before it landed, rolling over and over until he fetched up against a blackened trunk. He didn't bother to check for bruises, scrambling to his feet and bolting.

Caught up in the moment, Ezra was in wild flight for about five minutes; reaction to the adrenaline coursing through him at the successful gambit against an enemy that scared the hell out of him. But gradually he slowed, his legs protesting, the cloak flapping against them and tiring him more quickly. He turned and scanned back over the trees. He was back in greenery now. And he could see nothing. More so, the faint dark buzzing at his consciousness, the feeling of something deeply malevolent nearby, the…disturbance in the Force, he supposed, was gone.

Ezra let out a breath and then took another deep one, feeling an obscure impulse to giggle. He had dealt, albeit temporarily, with the Inquisitor. He swallowed the feeling, remembering the bigger picture, and lifted his comm.

.

Now down to three, the Spectres fled as shadows through the forest, long brown cloaks disguising their shapes against the trees, the thick undergrowth breaking up their silhouettes. They travelled east, one or other of them occasionally stopping to slash small path-markers on trees or break a twig, despite the risk of those following. Even if they did attract attention, it would lure some of the clones away from Kanan and the kid. The forest was thick and dark, and none of them wanted to lose their way. Or for Ezra to lose his. If they got badly separated, they could wander for days in the endlessly repeating scene.

Sabine felt her footsteps were becoming less sure from sheer tiredness as they kept walking, walking through the forest, heading east. She hated the sensation of being prey, even if accidentally so, caught up in wider events around them. She tried not to worry about Ezra – or the boy she was still trying to think of as Kanan. Caleb. Or the little Twi'lek child. There was nothing they could do for any of them right now. It would only distract her. _Don't play your partner's role too. Trust them to know what they're doing and get on with your own job_ , she firmly told herself. Ezra had his job, hers was to stick with the group until they- her foot hit solid ground rather than undergrowth and she stumbled as she realised she'd reached a road that curved away both sides into the greenery. She paused, looking around as the other two joined her.

Hera exhaled, looking as tired as Sabine felt. "Thank the Force," she murmured. "We're safe enough here. Just travellers."

"S'long as no-one asks us where we're going," said Zeb dourly, looking in both directions. "Don't even know which way to go."

"North," said Hera firmly. "The Clone captain said Caleb would try to get north, towards the city."

Sabine looked up. "It's nearly morning," she said with surprise. The forest had been dark enough that the gradual lightening of the sky hadn't been visible.

:: _"Spectre 6 to Spectre 2,"_ came a panting voice from the comm. Hera snatched it up. "Spectre 2 here, are you alright?"

:: _"I think I've lost him in a cave,_ " came the low response, between breaths. It sounded like Ezra was running. ::" _Don't think the tree over the entrance is gonna hold him long. Still thinks I was Kanan though."_

::"We've hit the road, east and slightly north of where we started. Do you know where you are?"

A pause.

 _::"I think so. I'm on a path now. I bet it connects to the road somewhere. It's going north."_

::"We're going to stay north, Ezra. You'll likely come out further along than us. Keep in contact."

 _::"Alright, Spectre 6 out."_

Hera closed her eyes a moment, trying to think. Relieved at hearing Ezra's voice again, she turned to the others, her eyes lighting up again with a determined fire.

"Kanan will try to get off-planet. We know he succeeded before. That means the city, despite the clone troops. We need to get to the main road, find some transport. Join a refugee train."

Sabine tilted her head questioningly. "How do you know there'll be a refugee train?" she asked.

Hera sighed. "It's a planet at war, Sabine. There'll be refugees and they'll head for the nearest city," she said sadly. It was one of the inevitable results of war. Zeb grunted agreement, but didn't comment. Hera wondered how much this was reminding him of the fall of Lasan. Children fleeing ahead of troops. The thought flicked across her mind and then she pushed it down.

.

In other circumstances, including the group not having been running through a forest all night, it would have been a pleasant walk. The road wound amongst the trees, a well-travelled surface resistant to the rain or the active roots underneath and as it gradually wove north-east it started to climb, looping around the base of a mountain.

Sabine was perking up as they walked and as the light gradually crept over the landscape and lit it up in soft dawn colours. The artist forgot her tiredness despite the gradual climb as she revelled in each glimpse over the treetops until she was able to look properly over this new planet's surface. The hills as far as they could see were covered in thick trees, a sea of green with large patches of golds and red – and black patches from which dark smoke still rose. The light lifting morning fog from the leaves faded from pink to gold with visible patches of mist lingering in the valleys. The west and south-west was dark green-grey. Even from here it looked wet, and the morning fog was hanging over it. A light grey smoke rose from the east, but it was paler than that of the wildfires and more controlled. Mountains rose from the colourful sea to the north. Despite everything else going on, right now Sabine was utterly happy. Her eye did see the ugly blackened blodges that marred the thick growth here and there, but for the moment, she was able to block them out in favour of the glorious colours.

Hera's spirits had lifted too. She was watching Sabine from the corner of her eye and enjoying her enjoyment.

"I would love to fly over this place," she said, having turned her attention to what was so fascinating Sabine. It was a high compliment from the pilot, who saw beauty most in the skies and in space. But she could imagine what this must look like from far above.

"Me too. Although I like being in it," she said, looking around at the light playing through the treetops, and walking backwards a few paces. Zeb's poke to her arm got her attention.

"Company." He squinted ahead. As the road descended into the forest again, there was a tall figure walking away from them. He looked very slightly like a Twi'lek from here and Zeb frowned. "Any ideas?"

Sabine focused too, but she shrugged after a moment. "Dark-skinned Torgruta?" She glanced at Hera questioningly, but after a prolonged look, Hera shook her head. "Not Twi'lek anyway. I don't think Torgruta either."

"Well, we're walkin' faster than him, so we'll get a better look in a bit," replied Zeb logically, setting a faster pace down the hill. Sabine followed rather reluctantly as the road dipped and the trees closed back in overhead again.

It didn't take them long to gain some distance on the figure and Hera snapped her fingers suddenly. "I've got it – Kalleran." She narrowed her eyes again, noting the long spray-shaped fan that had given an impression of lekku to Zeb. And even to her if she had to admit it. "Kaller. O-oh. We are a long way out."

"I've got Ezra!" yelped Sabine, pointing down the road to where a brown-cloaked figure had just hit the road, shuffling out of the undergrowth. He nearly crashed into the Kalleran, who saw him at the last moment. Both leaped a good foot away from each other.

The Spectres picked up their pace as Ezra backed up and around the Kalleran, hands up unthreateningly and apparently apologising profusely before turning and bolting up the road. The Kalleran looked up and saw three figures, including a giant purple hairy thing, descending on him and if he'd been inclined to make anything at all of it, he swiftly decided not to. He scurried on, feeling understandably put upon, since he had been walking all night and had done nothing to deserve any of it.

.

Caleb was exhausted, bewildered and still felt like he was in a nightmare he couldn't wake up from. One advantage he'd had was that he knew these forests very well once he worked out exactly where he was starting from after his flight. Master Billaba hadn't called him her "young strategist" for nothing. He knew the main routes, many of the landmarks and even a fair number of the mountain paths for miles around the camp, and was reasonably sure even in the dark. He considered hiding as he had to slow his pace down for an increasingly fractious and tired Maarje and eventually lifted her onto his back, trying to keep patience with her. If it was bad for him, she was only a youngling. He knew where he was now, at least to within a couple of klicks. He'd hit the road north eventually. He knew the troopers were expecting it, but it was the only option. Once he got to the road he could meld with the refugees that had started their trickle as the Separatists had settled on their land and demanded their labour and escalated as the Republic forces retook their holdouts. Some of them were even human.

 _And none of them are Twi'lek_. The thought hit like a rock. The sheer hopelessness of their predicament threatened to wash over him and he fought to keep it back. They were going to stand out anywhere on this accused planet.

 _If I was alone, I'd have taken to the swamps, stayed out of sight and come at the city from a different direction. But it would have been difficult anyway – it would be impossible with Maarje. Get to a populated place. The more people, the more Humans. Force help us, maybe even more Twi'leks. Then get to Coruscant_.

He glanced back over his shoulder. "Why are you on Kaller anyway? Bit young to be a Jedi general – or a padawan." He kept his tone light and friendly. It wasn't the kid's fault she was out here.

Maarje stirred. "We went to a planet with crystal caves. Singing crystals. I got one for a lightsaber." Her lekku drooped. "But I left it behind in the camp…"

Caleb tilted his head at that. "Singing crystals? Illum?"

"No, Dantooine, that was it. Master Kuso said it was safer right now. Mine was green."

"Mine was blue," replied Canan, noting Dantooine but deciding not to question too closely, and jigging her up again to resettle her further up his back. "Sorry you lost it, kid. Maybe you can get another one. It's probably just as well not to be carrying something like that at the moment though anyway." _Or your lightsaber, which is even more kriffing obvious_ , he thought. But…despite knowing it was dangerous, he couldn't throw away his lightsaber. They just had to get to Coruscant… someone would know what to do when they got to the Temple.

"Our ship was attacked. Master Kuso's leg was injured so we came to the nearest friendly planet," Mira finished her short tale. "He wanted to see Master Yoda. Wanted him to see me too." She sounded sleepy. Caleb looked back again though, interested.

"Yeah?" He became aware that just hearing another friendly voice was helping to balance him again, even if it was a tired, traumatised seven year old Twi'lek. After a moment he tried another prompt. "Do you know why?" He felt a little shrug.

"Don't know. Master Kuso said it was necessary. But he's dead now." She said it in an oddly matter-of-fact way, but her arms tightened. Caleb felt a chill again at the words, realising that a hope he hadn't realised he had had just died. The only adult Jedi in this region of the planet were dead. They really were on their own. And as much as it might be nice to think they could fly off to find Master Yoda, the chances of him being wherever Master Kuso had thought he was before everyone he knew had apparently lost their minds now were remote. Was home even the best idea? What if this went further than Kaller?

The thought chilled him. Either way, he had to get to the city. They were safer in numbers, where their very obviously unKalleran looks wouldn't be so obvious. And where he had a chance at getting them off this planet.

"How did you get away?" asked the child. He could feel her looking at his ear.

"We fought our way out. Master Billaba broke the back line to give us a path out, but they killed her."

"Why did they kill her? And Master Kuso? They weren't a threat. Jedi aren't a threat. We're _Republic_." She sounded as puzzled as Caleb felt about it all.

"I really wish I knew, Maarje. They were friends as well as just being General Billaba's squad. Some of them saved my life before now." He shrugged. "And Master Billaba and I have saved some of theirs too. It was …so sudden." It added to the whole unreality of it all. Absolutely everything had been upturned in a heartbeat. With absolutely no warning – and yet, that wasn't quite true. He remembered Captain Styles turning and saying something, blaster in his hand, but it was drowned out by Depa Billaba's urgent alert. She had obviously known it was coming the instant before it happened.

"Master Kuso pushed me under the bed in case it was Separatists. The soldiers came in but didn't say anything, just shot him." Her rather pointy little chin dug into his shoulder for a moment.

"How did you escape?" he asked, glancing back to her.

"I crawled out under the side of the tent. There were troopers everywhere, but there was an explosion and I ran away from it."

He nodded. "Don't know what that was, it was behind us. Something went wrong for the clone troops trying to get behind us anyway."

"They felt like friends," she said quietly into his shoulder. Caleb couldn't say anything to that. They had been. He just nodded and they walked in silence for a while, until he felt Maarje gradually relaxing against his back and resettled her carefully. If she could sleep, so much the better.

.

They kept a measured pace, slower than they could have gone, but steady. Despite his fear of what was behind them – and what could get in front of them – Caleb knew that trying to hurry would get them a bit further a bit faster and then slow them as he needed rest. Maarje didn't weigh more than a full pack, and at least she could mostly hang on herself. She was a bit of a dead weight at the moment though. His thoughts moved to tomorrow as he adjusted her again to give his arms a rest. She was going to be screamingly obvious. Actually…he glanced down at his forest-dirtied robes and had to control a hysterical giggle. **She** _was going to be obvious? You're both dressed as_ **Jedi** _, you spacebrain_! However, this was serious. There was enough of a chill in the air that the robes were still serving a purpose, but once they got to the road and once the twin suns started rising, they'd be a liability.

 _Surely the road isn't too much further ahead_ , he thought, as he stumbled in the dawn gloom over a root and dislodged Maarje, who woke with a sleepy protest.

"It's okay, I just tripped. You alright back there, kid?" he asked, trying to keep his voice normal and calm.

"I'm okay. I can walk a bit, Caleb. I'm not tired anymore." She tightened her arms a moment in a hug of reassurance, and indicated she wanted down. He let her, his arms whining a protest at the change in posture. As she looked around at the dull trees, he straightened up and stretched.

"It's not long until dawn now, Maarje. We should be near the road too. I think we should hit it well north of where the Clones will expect." He mentally thanked the Force, Master Billaba, a few of the more helpful Kallerans from the settlement, anything going for his knowledge of the pathways. The clones would assume he'd take the easier route direct east and then cut north into the road sector. Especially with a small child. "Going to take five minutes and …do something about our robes."

Maarje looked down at her own youngling robes, her lekku flattening. "I guess so," she said rather sadly. Caleb's lip twisted in sympathy. He had his lightsaber and it turned out he still had his newly acquired holocron. But apart from that, the robes on their backs were all they had between them. And he wasn't entirely sure how he was going to keep the two noticeably Jedi artifacts safe either.

"I know. But they're a screaming siren. I think we can get away with the undertunics and trousers. Once I get rid of the trimming anyway." He sat against a tree and reluctantly shrugged off his robes.

Maarje had been notably reluctant to surrender her own, but she hadn't put up a fuss, watching sorrowfully as Caleb burned the two tell-tale reveals of what they were with his lightsaber. It didn't do the job perfectly, but no-one would particularly see or note the brown scraps left stuffed into the depths of a hedge. She rubbed her arms in the pre-dawn chill, arms bare from her shoulders. The trimming on the undertunic had been sheared off with Caleb's knife. Looking down at herself, while she understood (more or less) the importance of it, she felt like she didn't know herself in the rather ragged cream tunic and the brown leggings. Also, her belt underneath her tunic rather than over it was uncomfortable to get used to, the leather sticking to her skin rather than catching the cloth. But at least they still had pouches.

Caleb scanned her over when he was done, and then glanced down at himself. He still felt exposed and obvious. The clones would certainly know what the Jedi undertunics looked like. But they couldn't exactly wander around the planet naked, which was about the only other option. He too felt a wave of tired sadness and dislocation at the difference. Yesterday, he had been Master Billaba's padawan and had felt himself settled and happy with his world. Now he wasn't sure what he was – they were – hunted fugitives on a world where being a Jedi was apparently now a death sentence. Hunted by his own unit at that. He sighed, stretching again and forcing the thoughts away from the surface. He couldn't afford to think on them now. And no amount of thinking would bring understanding of this anyway. He felt arms around his waist.

"You won't leave?" asked a very small voice. He swallowed and hugged the young Twi'lek back.

"Of course not," he replied quietly. "I don't know what's going on. But we're getting out of this together, I promise. We're getting back to the Temple."

Maarje nodded. She didn't tell him that she wasn't really so much afraid of him abandoning her (her trust in her fellow Jedi still held), but rather that he would die, like Master Kuso, and leave her alone on this world where everyone hated them.

Caleb wasn't aware of the child's thoughts, although he could feel the scared cling. He tried to be as reassuring as he could against his own wave of doubt and fear. He had to get them out of here. And find them less obvious clothing. There should be a little settlement close, if he'd judged his angle through the forest right. But first he had to check the holocron, while they were still isolated. Maybe there would be some message there that would explain what was going on.

It took him a while to focus enough to find his connection to the Force. He was too afraid of taking attention from their surrounds, from the forest, that might let the clone troopers catch them unawares. The kid was keeping a look-out, but his own senses were so honed towards outward threat right now that turning them down enough to focus was difficult. It was several minutes before he could make himself relax enough to reach out to the Force with confidence. But the holocron unlocked. It was the first time he had unlocked it. "To study the role of questions", Master Billaba had said when she gave it to him earlier this evening. Well, he just needed an answer to one now.

There was an answer. Caleb looked away from the open holocron at the slow, steady beeping. He'd never heard it before, but he knew what it was. The beacon at the Jedi temple had been activated and they were being recalled home. Both looked relieved, in Caleb's case with a certain amount of foreboding that this was easier said than done. But at least he had confirmation that they were doing the right thing.

.

 _AN: My chapters were getting a bit monstrous, so trying to cut them down into more manageable chunks. So posting two or the second when I confirm something :P_

 _I had a source placing Kaller somewhere up around the Mygeeto, Ord Mantell general region. Can't find it now and can't find a map that's heard of Kaller at all, so for the purposes of this story, it's somewhere around there._

 _This spacing issue is still really annoying._


	5. Chapter 5: Okadiah's Transport

_AN: Thanks for the review, Tina, glad you're enjoying! ^^_

 **Part 2: First Day of the Empire**

 _ **Chapter 5. Okadiah's Hoverbus**_

.

 _Kaller_

Dawn was approaching as the pair reached the first signs of life and the odd house became a cluster along the road. There were still few people about, for which Caleb Dume was grateful. He alternated between carrying Maarje and letting her walk, keeping a slow but steady pace that she gamely kept up with. Several fruit trees were growing at the far end of the village and they took advantage of it. As they set out again on the long walk, with some supplies secreted in various pouches, and both chewing on meiloorun, Caleb's spirits were lifting a bit. Things were still objectively pretty bad, but right now nothing horrible was happening, the fruit was satisfying hunger and thirst and the sun was starting to rise. Although that would be a problem later on when the twin suns got high and the temperature rose.

Maarje had brightened up too, and pulled ahead a few steps with restored energy.

"Maarje, keep it steady," cautioned Caleb, and the Jedi youngling immediately dropped back again to walk beside the padawan. Caleb knew how far away the city actually was, and also that this period while the clones still searched the forest might be their last real respite. They had to make the most of it. He felt the urge to hurry, of course. He knew what – who was coming after them. But that would only tire them faster.

.

Some distance east of the village, they started seeing makeshift tents scattered in the trees on either side of the road. People were stirring here, and they no longer had the road to themselves. The one upside to this was that there were humans amongst them, which at least meant he didn't stick out as much as he otherwise would. While smaller and less likely to be spotted, Maarje was still unique though. Caleb was considering whether it was time to leave the road again. The one thing that kept him on the easier surface was that clones would be travelling by speeder and he'd hear that coming well in advance.

Maarje was walking beside him silently, although he noticed her taking furtive looks at people as they passed by. Mostly that was all she would do, but a couple of times she frowned or moved in against Caleb's leg, which had the effect of steering them off course. While he had decided it hadn't been an accident the second time, he hadn't challenged her on it. The second time he'd watched the Kalleran the kid was avoiding out of the corner of his eye and saw a telltale aggressive twitch of his fin as they passed him. Not friendly, and whether he just disliked everyone or had a thing against offworlders, Caleb was fine with not being close enough to provoke him further.

Three humans ahead was new and unusual though, and they kept their interest for a while. Caleb and Maarje had been steadily gaining on them as the suns rose, mostly as the human group seemed to be wasting a lot of energy with a blazing row as they walked. About half an hour after they first came into sight, one of the three stalked off ahead and kept its distance. The other two were walking behind, staying more closely together. The children both decided to give them a wide berth, Caleb changing their path long before Maarje had to start any persistent nudging. The two men were talking quietly and paid the pair no attention. The atmosphere the three of them were broadcasting was unpleasant and Caleb quickened their pace slightly to lessen the time they spent in close proximity to the group. As they passed out the woman, she was shrugging off her wrap, her face pink with either heat or annoyance, and clashing with her bright red hair. While not heavily so, she was visibly pregnant and Caleb felt a pang of sympathy for making the journey like that. At least he could put Maarje down and let her walk. He relaxed the pace as soon as they had a bit of distance, hearing raised voices from behind again. Those faded too, the group falling behind as they squabbled. Maarje giggled quietly to herself and Caleb glanced back questioningly.

Maarje looked a little guilty. "She reminded me of a padawan in the Temple, Ginia Tix. She's all pink and with red hair when she's cross too."

Caleb grinned a moment. "I know her. She does it when she Force-pulls her lightsaber and catches it the wrong way around. Never known anyone to do it so consistently." He paused as that struck him. "She's on this planet," he said softly. "She's Master Jhesa's padawan, with the forces in the city sector."

Maarje leaned her chin on his shoulder with a soft sigh. "Maybe if they were in the city, they managed to escape in a ship," she said hopefully.

"I hope so." He really did. Along with his general lack of wanting to put any of his fellow padawans through this, he was friends with Tix. And of all of them, he did wish now that it wasn't her here. He hoped they'd gotten away.

"We just have to…trust in the Force," he said after a moment. It didn't feel like enough.

.

Nearly two hours later, the sky was grey but clearing, pink glints visible in long wisps of cloud that caught the suns' light as they rose. The sky was only visible in a long strip, the trees lining either side of the road blocking out much of the light with heavy summer foliage. But they could see further into the forest, passing the time spotting tents amongst the undergrowth. Neither spoke much, finds being indicated with nods more than words. Caleb was still listening for sounds of an engine, the most likely sign of the army in this part of the planet. That was instinctive on Kaller anyway, although previously caution had been reserved for Separatists and the droid units. They were coming across a lot more tents now and Caleb was starting to worry again about Maarje's visibility.

They were passing swiftly through another small roadside settlement of about a dozen buildings when flapping cloth caught Caleb's eye. They were just past the last house in the village, and a laundry line slung between a pole in the garden of the house and a tree at its natural perimeter had several items of clothing and a sheet or tablecloth pinned to it. None of the clothing was helpful to either of them, but Caleb found himself eyeing up the sheet. As they came out from between the houses and reached the treeline again, he took a right turn into the woods, slipping between the trees towards his target. Maarje followed trustingly, although she looked rather confused.

"Wait here, kid," he told her, studying the house and the road for a moment before he lurked out of hiding along the line of washing, unpegging the sheet – tablecloth, he was pretty sure now – and scarpering back to the treeline. _And so my introduction to petty larceny_ , he thought with dark amusement. Back in the trees, Maarje looked frankly mystified as he rejoined her.

"Come on, and I feel like I should say that that wasn't an example of Jedi behaviour," he said swiftly, taking her hand and picking up the pace as he made a diagonal back towards the road away from the house. Once decently out of sight, and down in the ditch, he shook out of cloth. "I've seen humans on the road, but you're pretty noticeable, kid. And it's going to get hot later." He laid the cloth down. "Sit cross-legged on that. I'm going to bundle you up in this. You'll look like a sack, but that's better than looking like a Twi'lek out here. Okay?"

Once she understood why Caleb had apparently gone mad and was stealing laundry, Maarje giggled at the idea of looking like a sack and sat down on the sheet. Caleb secured the cloth around her shoulders, leaving the long corners to tie over his own. Getting her onto his back proved more difficult but after a few moments, he was able to straighten up cautiously with her. He shunted the sack's weight to make it more comfortable, to a protest from the Twi'lek.

"Ow, I'm not a sack of vegetables, Caleb!"

Caleb grinned over his shoulder at her. "Yes you are. A sack of summer greens for the market," he teased back.

She giggled again. "Don't sell me! I wouldn't make good salad."

He adjusted her once more and carefully clambered up the ditch back onto the road. "Well, you have meiloorun in there too. Could sell you as a fruit salad." Maarje contemplated this.

"Okay," she agreed. "Don't wanna be cooked though. Fruit aren't cooked." She considered this too. "Unless it's pie."

"Twi'lek and meiloorun pie. Exotic in this part of the galaxy."

"Noo! No pie!"

Laughing and joking with each other, the two children started back down the long road, gaining a few moments respite from the tension of hunt.

.

Some seven or eight miles away as a flying species might have it, the Spectres were lurking on the corner of a street in a small town along the main road. It centred on a cross-roads, a main road that held the buildings most important to the little watering hole's survival and currently also a rusty brown _Smoothride_ hoverbus which had just pulled up with a groan outside the main building. It hadn't bothered to pull over. There wasn't going to be any more traffic. Two clone troopers got out of it, heading into the building. She studied the hoverbus, which was probably thirty years old itself and looked it. It was a few models earlier and was plainly not going to fly, but it reminded her of Okadiah Garsen's hoverbus. Especially the rust. She decided to take the similarity to the Gorse transport as a good omen and narrowed her eyes.

"I don't think temporarily inconveniencing those troopers is going to change the fate of the galaxy," she said quietly. "We need transport if we're to get to the city and catch up with Caleb."

Sabine grinned in anticipation. "Distraction?"

"No, we're going to casually go over there, I'll rewire her and we'll go as if we own it. We'll interfere as _little_ as possible. Besides, I don't want the villagers punished."

Sabine blew her fringe out of her face, flicking it back, but then nodded. "Nice and casual it is," she agreed.

Nicely and casually the four dusty, twig-snarled vagabonds strolled across the road to the brown transport. And casually Hera dropped something, bent down to pick it up and slithered under it. Sabine continued to look casual. Zeb was having more difficulty. He didn't feel remotely subtle out here and glowered indiscriminately at anyone who gave them a second glance. For reasons including the glare, few did. The engine chugged into life. Zeb flicked the hatchdoor open. Hera wriggled out as the door to the largest building opened again and vaulted into the driver's seat on instinct. A hapless Sergeant on an errand to a purportedly friendly settlement to deliver information on dangerous escaped criminals ran out of the building and saw his transport bounce merrily down the street, take a turn onto the main road and trundle off.

"…Who would even want that dwangin' thing anyway?" he muttered, scowling after it. At least he might get assigned a better speeder than that bone-shattering ride. Although he wasn't sure how Captain Gray was going to take being stranded in a little border settlement during a planet-wide emergency.

.

As the suns rose and the air warmed, a dusty brown transport bounced along another mountain road. Despite Hera's best efforts, as the speeder slowly clambered up another incline, things got rocky again.

"Why the hells did we take this – unkh – kriffin' heap of broken suspension rods?" complained Zeb loudly as he cracked his head off the hatch again. Sabine braced herself against the seats ahead and behind her, trying not to get bounced onto Ezra.

"I'm trying to ..ugh, she does not like that gear. Alright, alright, that's a bit better." The ride smoothed down as Hera coaxed the grumpy old machine along. "The choice isn't exactly great for transport for four. No flight and no facil-" As she spoke, the road appeared to vanish underneath the speeder, at least judging by the bone-shaking thud of its rear banging against the ground. "Ow, you all okay back there?" _Oh, it handles like Okadiah's bus though_.

"I will not die like this!" There was a muffled yowl from beneath a pile of purple fur. Sabine regarded Ezra's orange legs kicking from beneath the fallen Lasat, and burst into giggles that became outright laughter. She was possibly a little giddy from lack of sleep, the events of the night before and the relative safety and…uh…comfort of their current situation. At least they were neither running nor walking. Zeb laughed too, a short one, but still a laugh, as he got off the smallest member of the crew.

"Thanks for the soft landing, kid. You okay?"

Ezra groaned dramatically, also catching the silly mood. "I don't know. Check my bones." He rolled upright, making a face. "You stuck me with a twig. Groom yourself or something, you're like a tree."

Zeb snorted. "Ah, groom yer hair, you look like an ashpit." He sat down again and shifted in his seat. He could feel something sticking into him. He reached back and with some contortions in the enclosed space peeled a long bramble from the cloak and his back both. Huh. He tossed it aside. Ezra ran his fingers through his hair and made a face as he felt them catch on a well-tangled twig. He got up and moved carefully to the second seat, beside Hera. She took pity on him and smiled over to him.

"Getting a bit rough back there?" she asked sympathetically. "Speeder doesn't really like the hills. Or the road."

"Or moving," pointed out the teenager, sitting into the seat.

"Or moving, true," Hera agreed with a wince as the speeder thudded its metal rear off the road in protest at a bump, imagined or not. "It is somewhat faster than walking at least."

"Yeah. And my legs are fine with transport. Just the rest've me that's complaining." He grinned weakly.

"…Do you think Kanan's okay back in th- our time?" asked Ezra after a moment, looking straight ahead. "He hurried us off and all, but the Inquisitor didn't go easy on him."

"I hope so. Sabine saw to his leg. His arm was mostly a flesh wound. He would have had difficulty with that run through the forest last night, but he should be okay with Chopper."

"As long as we're not too long." Ezra tapped his foot idly. Hera glanced over, suspicious.

"Something bothering you, Ezra?" she asked. While the words could have sounded trite or dismissive, Hera always said it so genuinely that any of the crew had trouble resisting the gentle question.

"No. Yeah. Everything. All this. It's Empire Day. I was born today. Like, _actually_ today. On Lothal. And the day before I was born, the Jedi were wiped out." He drummed his fingers nervously on his lap, turning his head to look out the window. Lots of trees. He wished a moment for plains. Open ground.

Hera looked over to him again, her brown eyes soft with sympathy. She'd known this would be hard on him. Seeing bluntly what happened to people with his abilities in the Empire's galaxy. The Empire had kept up the purge gleefully. Back when this happened the first time, Hera had still been a child really. She had known it was bad from her father's expression. This time around she had seen it through an adult's eyes and first hand.

"I know. I don't understand last night either. I saw how they moved. There was no hesitation. It was unnatural."

"Kanan never said anything about it before? Does he know why it happened?"

Hera shook her head. "Neither of us talked about the Clone Wars in more than just general. Never asked him about anything to do with the Jedi, it was safer." _Safer bar the oddly specific circumstance of finding myself in in the middle of it with little information, but who plans for time travel?_ It was true though. She didn't ask about his Jedi past and he didn't ask about her contacts and the why of certain missions the _Ghost_ went on.

Zeb let out an uncomfortable growl in his throat, a pause of sorts before he spoke. "We were talkin' about clone troopers once and he said something about it being a terrible idea and that the Separatist war was fought by droids on both sides." The man had been extremely drunk at the time, but he'd seemed sincere and bitter about it. No explanation was asked or given and it had passed off until now. But there had been something droidlike about how swiftly, efficiently and _totally_ the clones had turned on their leaders.

The conversation went quiet for a bit as the reminder brought uncomfortable memories back. All of the group were used to war by now. All of them were used to atrocities. It was rare enough that any of them talked about the personal hurts inflicted by the Empire. But while they were able to be easy with each other, and even joke and be silly in reaction, it didn't mean that any of them didn't feel it when they were confronted by another act of cruelty.

.

Another little village, or rather, line of houses along the routeway. There were people out and about here, getting through their morning tasks, the first signs of normality since they'd landed here. Hera carefully maneuvered the speeder around a loud argument between a tall Kalleran and a shorter one. The older one was pointing angrily towards a line of laundry on a string between two trees. Whatever the problem was, the younger one appeared to be denying all knowledge, hands raised defensively and arguing back in high-pitched tones. Apparently whatever the argument was about, it was far more important than mere traffic.

"Don't mind us, just trying to use the road," mumbled Hera as she straightened up. In a few moments, the hamlet was behind them again. There were still signs of life on the sides of the path though, the odd makeshift camp here and there and people trudging along the verges, paying little attention beyond a wary glance or two as they passed.

Hera had to slow the speeder by her own choice rather than the machine's creaky limits as the suns rose to send shafts of light through the heavy canopy. There were more people on the road. Most of them were heading the same direction they were. The largest number were Kallerans, a tall green-skinned finned race native to the world. But there were the odd members of other species scattered amongst them. She scanned over each of the smaller ones as they carefully wound in and out around individuals and groups. None of them appeared to give a damn about a vehicle in their midst unless it was actively about to hit them. Occasionally another vehicle passed, and Hera was relieved to see that most of them were much like the transport they were in. None of them looked new, and as she squeezed the speeder past another, which was apparently parked/abandoned in the middle of the road, she noted that it appeared to be tied together with lengths of rope. Presumably why it was now abandoned. Not a wealthy planet then.

"Reckon someone sold them a job lot?" commented Ezra, also looking at the decrepit transport. "That's three of this make so far. And we've only seen five."

"Maybe. Not complaining though. Can't say I want the distinction of driving the one transport of this model on the planet, having just stolen it from the army."

Ezra grinned briefly in acknowledgement of the point, but it slid off his face as he slumped in the seat, frowning at the road ahead, also automatically scanning for another Human. The suns were getting high and it was already surprisingly warm. It was starting to bother the people on the road and they were fading off the hardpacked surface in favour of the forest as the road climbed to circle another mountain. Ezra watched the thinning treeline as they passed, seeing the odd figure here and there. Soon they had left the forest shade behind, and the sun beat down remorselessly on the top of the transport.

"Getting warm in here," sighed Sabine, struggling out of the heavy cloak and pressing it against the window. Zeb had already dumped his.

"Let's stop a few minutes," replied Hera, who could feel she was getting over-heated and sleepy. "I need some air."

Ezra left the doors open as Hera pulled in under the questionable shade of one stunted, but leafy tree that seemed to be defying the sun and anything else the planet could throw at it. The other side of the road had a rather good view, a rolling ridge that looked over the trees at the base of the mountain and then plains to the east. In the distance, Sabine could see a city. It didn't look hugely appealing, but she suspected that to the walkers on the road, it looked like _safety_ , which was far more important.

The road was silent on this graceful arc along the bend of the mountain. Hera suspected because once the suns were up, it was too exposed in high summer. That they were up here definitely marked them out as foreigners. She turned slowly, scanning the area. She had a weird feeling of being observed. Zeb glanced over at her movement.

"Everything okay?" he asked quietly. Hera frowned. "I don't know. I feel like I'm being watched."

"Don't look now, but you are," murmured Sabine softly, her eyes flicking from Hera to over her own shoulder. Hera followed the look and met a pair of large brown eyes, the pale green skin around it fading into dry undergrowth. Hera tilted her head, looking down at the eyes ten or fifteen feet away as they retreated into the bush. She crouched down, trying to look less threatening. "Hey, you," she said softly, her tone friendly.

There was a long pause from the bush.

Hera tried again. "You're safe, _lia'ry_ ," she said gently, using the affectionate diminutive "little sister" in the Twi'lek tongue. "Come on out." A very small Twi'lek slowly edged out of the undergrowth, pulling with her a large, knotted no-longer-white sheet that looked to have once been someone's tablecloth. She looked up at the bigger Twi'lek with a mixture of uncertainty and hope and then offered her palms a respectful distance apart.

"Kei-nata tun," she offered the traditional greeting. Hera smiled and responded to it, placing her palms against and outside the child's own. While it indicated that Hera was of higher seniority, it was also a reassuring gesture to a young child. The adult would take care of her.

The other three watched from a sensible distance, Zeb staying well back in the group, as Hera communicated with the small girl.

"Why are you out on the road on your own?" asked Hera, swallowing down a pang of concern. The adult Kanan would never have abandoned a child this small and she highly doubted the boy from last night would have either. The child looked down and shifted her weight between her feet.

"My _nerra_ fell and won't get up and I don't know what to do," she said in a low tone that shook at the last few words. The child was obviously nearly done and while trying to control herself, was starting to lose it. Hera gathered her into a reassuring hug. "We'll help you, _lia'ry_. Where is he?"

Maarje leaned in against the bigger Twi'lek, relieved beyond measure that here was a friendly, _safe_ adult to confide in. She hoped so anyway. Caleb had been very clear that she shouldn't approach anyone on the road. But then he got sick and Maarje had no idea what to do. She pointed over the ridge and Hera headed over, keeping her arms around the child. She could feel her sniffling tiredly into her shoulder, her reserves breaking down once she could lay her burden on someone bigger and more able to deal with it.

There was the other child they were looking out for. Caleb had – Hera hoped – just fainted, but he was lying in the grass down at the bottom of the ridge and she could see why Maarje had been so frightened. Zeb swung himself over the ridge, his long legs taking it easily. "I'll get the kid," he offered. Maarje gave him a wide-eyed look. He was both quite possibly the largest sentient being she'd ever seen _and_ purple.

Hera soothed her absently, frowning down the hill. Caleb had obviously tried to disguise their Jedi clothing as best he could, and both children appeared to be in undertunics, the identifiable trimming shorn off, over simple trousers that she suspected were part of the set. It did a good job of concealing the original nature of the garments, and certainly no-one would look twice at two such brown and ragged-looking specimens. It did not do much for protecting the arms, neck or head of either of them from the hot suns above. She hoped Caleb only had a touch of the heat and maybe the effects of exhaustion and trauma from the previous night.

Zeb crouched down by the kid at the bottom of the hill. It was distinctly weird to half-recognise him, even when the kid had his eyes closed. He could see he was breathing at least, but from the pink colour of his skin under his brown hair and on his shoulders and arms, he had likely just taken too much of the suns. He glanced up to Hera and gave her a nod, indicating that Caleb was at least alive, and gathered the kid up. As a Lasat, Zeb had more difficulty in working out ages in Humans, but he realised with a frown that the boy was presumably about Ezra's age. He stumped up the hill, glowering. Kriffing Empire.

Maarje struggled free of Hera's arms as Zeb came back to the top of the ridge, forgetting her alarm of the Lasat. _"Nerra? Nerra!"_ she called, reaching up to pull at Caleb's arm.

"He's okay, kid. Just too much sun. He'll wake up in a bit once we get him into the shade." Zeb's voice was naturally gruff, but he attempted to gentle it a bit rather than sound like he was about to eat him. Maarje's lekku were laid down flat against her head as the Lasat strode over the top of the ridge, towering over her, but followed him persistently to the transport (possibly in case Zeb did decide to eat him after all).

"Bring him under the tree, Zeb," called Hera. "He'll be alright there." And she didn't want the risk of an alarmed or sick teenage Force-user with the proven capability of flinging things around with his mind waking up in a packed transport with a group of strangers after the last couple of days. Zeb did so, using his wrap to jury-rig a shelter involving a stick and a hedge. It looked no worse than five hundred or so other similar set-ups down along the road. Maarje wriggled in beside him and curled up with her cloth. She liked the bigger Twi'lek who called her " _lia'ry_ " and seemed to know what to do and to care enough to do it. But she was also afraid of questions without Caleb, including their names. And afraid of losing her one link to her past and her family.

"Ezra, you're probably least threatening. Stay near them," said Hera quietly to him. Ezra nodded, looking curiously at the pair under the shelter, and sat himself down nearby where he could hear or see any movement in either of them.

Hera, Sabine and Zeb retreated to the transport, Zeb sitting into the seat nearest the door. "Sticking around indicates we're planning to offer them help." He raised an eyebrow at Hera. "Interferin's okay now?" Hera frowned.

"Not more than necessary. But the Inquisitor is interfering already. We can't lose Caleb because we're too cautious and leave him exposed."

"Is he going to remember us? Like, what does that do when we all start collecting in the future?" asked Sabine, frowning and bracing her feet against the seat ahead.

"I've been thinking about that. I don't know. Given all that's happened, I would doubt he'll really remember people who gave him and the kid a ride. Assuming he accepts it." _And given his later attempts to drown the entire period in various bottles, even Zeb probably won't stick..._

"Well, probably not given the colour of him," allowed Zeb. "You humans go in for pink, but not that shade of pink."

Sabine shrugged. She was probably the biggest reader on the ship, and much like Hera and Kanan, was inclined to take the non-interference order (mostly) seriously. But she wasn't going to be the one to protest that they should leave Ezra-sized-Kanan and the tiny Twi'lek out on the road, especially given what was patiently tracking them. "I'm fine with it," she said briefly. She stretched. "Although if we're going to hang on and let him wake up, we may as well nap a bit too. None of us exactly slept much yesterday."

"Mhh.." agreed Hera, realising that she was still tired too, and very much disinclined to drive the rickety transport further under the blazing suns.

"You two kip a bit. I'll keep an eye out," replied Zeb. "I'll sleep in the transport if I need to."

"On Ezra?" asked Sabine with an amused grin.

"Eh, the kid's comfortable enough, sure, why not." Zeb pushed himself up and, taking a hold of the edge of the roof, vaulted himself lightly up onto it. "Someone give me a wrap, I don't want to end up like the kid." Sabine offered hers up and it vanished over the top of the roof with a grunt from above. Zeb tossed it over his head and upper body, shielding his eyes from the sun as well as exposed skin, and turned his attention to the road.

The two women settled down in the shade of the transport, protected from the sun's glare and both quickly dozed off.

.

 _TBC: Chapter 6: The Market._

 _In which Caleb suddenly has to figure out who they are now that Jedi is no longer an option, the Specters have to figure out how to play along with Caleb's story to avoid spooking them away and Sabine's armour becomes a problem._


	6. Chapter 6: The Market

**Chapter 5: The Market**

 _Kaller_

* * *

Ezra tried to meditate but soon realised that it wasn't exactly the most sensible thing to be doing in full view of the road. He sighed and drew his legs up in front of him, hooking his arms around them and regarded the pair. It was distinctly weird to see Caleb, _Caleb_ , he had to remind himself. Not Kanan. Not yet anyway. But at roughly Ezra's own age, he still had the look of the man Ezra remembered. He was less slight than Ezra, although a similar build, likely a result of Ezra's seven years or so of semi-sufficient nutrition and active life on the streets and plains of Lothal. The brown hair was more ruddish at this age, with hints of copper in the light. _Huh_ , he realised. Made sense though, even as an adult, Kanan's green eyes indicated a light colouring. Probably why he was now the sort of colour Sabine put into her explosions.

 _Face value is more valuable than it sounds,_ Kanan had pointed out to him once or twice, trying to train his padawan to analyse people rather than just look at them. _Their clothes, weapons, even their hands tell you more about them. Even if they appear unarmed, their hands and how they move and look around can tell you what they're practiced with. There's instinctual weaknesses you pick up to exploit when using a blaster or a lightsaber. What are they seeing? What weaknesses are they looking for?_

Ezra screwed up his face and then tried to look at the boy again, this time with what he was still calling his "Jedi eyes". They were no different to his normal eyes, he was really only applying his brain to what they picked up. _Besides, if I can do it, clone troopers will probably be able to do it too. How obvious is he?_

He still saw a boy of about fourteen, apparently of an active lifestyle. Not bulky enough to be a manual worker (although that wasn't a very helpful metric at fourteen), but the bare arms and hands looked wiry. Ezra had a sneaking suspicion that an arm-wrestle between him and Caleb probably wouldn't go well for Ezra. But if his arms were trained, and not in manual labour, that suggested a weapon. _Okay, maybe I can do this_ , he thought. Admittedly, he had a few advantages in this case. His hair was loose and shaggy, compared to the tail he'd worn yesterday, a short, plaited tail hanging separately behind his right ear. Ezra frowned at where he'd seen it. Was that a spiky tuft where a blade had cut it out? Well, that would make sense if it was part of his description. Presumably why his hair was down as well. And disturbingly familiar green eyes. He noted them and then did a quick double-take and the blue eyes flicked back to meet the confused – and now suspicious – teal ones.

"…Hi?" said Ezra a bit flatly, taken by surprise. Caleb pushed himself up on one hand, his other arm unconsciously drawing the small Twi'lek with him protectively. "Who're you?" His pink skin paled at the movement and he looked rather ill.

"Hey, take it easy, I'm Ezra. You fainted on the road. We were stopped a little way away and the kid came to us for help."

Caleb looked even more green for a moment and Ezra wondered was he about to pass out again. He saw him look around sharply and see the transport and the two figures curled up near it.

 _Okay, okay, breathe and don't have hysterics_ , Caleb told himself firmly, pulling himself back under control. _They're just refugees. Like you. And…ugh, I feel weird._ He rubbed at his face, wincing as his skin burned.

"I should have remembered what the mid-day heat can be like," he muttered. "Taking the mountain road was dumb."

"Didn't think it could get so hot here either," agreed Ezra, keeping it friendly and light since the other boy didn't look like he was about to immediately flee for the woods. "With all these trees and all."

"It rains most of the year," replied the padawan. "A lot of it is swamp. Just a couple of months in planetary summer when it bakes."

Maarje stirred and cuddled more against Caleb as he moved, perhaps unconsciously ensuring that he wasn't going anywhere. He looked down at her, checking her skin for signs of too much sun. Although the tablecloth had covered her well, both from the sun and from suspicious eyes. A boy walking towards the city with a large sack on his back (or a wrapped-up child) wasn't exactly unusual since the invasions had started though and he had gotten few second glances, bar from those still not used to seeing Humans at all. He realised after a moment that he had no idea of how Twi'leks reacted to sun, let alone if their skin tended to burn. She felt normal enough, he guessed, maybe a little warm. So, how was he going to explain her? Then other thoughts tumbled into his mind. _How long was I out? How much time did we lose?_ How long before the clones were searching the cities in earnest as well as the routeways? He nudged Maarje, shifting as if to get up, albeit rather gingerly.

"We should head on," he said rather abruptly. "Thanks for looking out for us."

Ezra had watched the thoughts flash over the other teenager's face. Or at least, he saw his colour changing; Caleb's actual expression remained fairly blank, before the boy spoke.

"Wait a sec, before you go," said Ezra rather hurriedly, straightening up. Caleb nudged Maarje again as he saw Ezra head towards the two women near the transport.

"Come on, kid, it's time for us to move," he whispered urgently to her as her eyes opened muzzily. He gave her no time to protest, but swaddled her rapidly in the tablecloth and crouched for her to get on his back. The boy, Ezra, he remembered now, was talking to the two women. He did a double-take on seeing a second Twi'lek on this out-of-the-way world. The other was a rather beautiful human girl of about sixteen with brightly coloured hair. Being a fourteen year old boy, Caleb stared at her and then blinked and looked back to Maarje as the girl met his gaze. He hoped his blush at being caught wasn't apparent under his sunburn. He straightened up cautiously as the two women moved over, adjusting Maarje on his back. Ugh, he still felt awful. But his instincts were saying to avoid people right now. And his stupid faint had wasted too much time that they didn't have. He backed up a pace as they approached.

"Thanks for helping us out. We should keep going though," he said quickly. Maarje said a few words in a musical language Caleb hadn't heard before and he felt a chill as the smiling older Twi'lek responded. He really hoped Maarje hadn't let out anything while he was unconscious.

"Are you walking to the city?" asked Hera. "We're travelling that way too, we could give you a ride there."

"A rattly one anyway," added Sabine with a sunny smile. Sabine wasn't conceited about her looks, but she would have had to be a lot stupider than she was to not realise the effect she usually had on teenage boys. She'd seen Caleb staring at her and while her other knowledge made the idea of Kanan at any age hitting on her really weird, she wasn't above using it right now to good purpose. Aw, he was blushing again. She tried to conceal her amusement.

"It's a long way still," said Hera. "And you took quite a fall back there." Her tone was kind, as were her eyes and despite a well-founded suspicion of everyone and everything at the moment, Caleb found himself drawn to her. He looked at the ground as he quickly considered his options. On the one hand, he wanted to stay independent and away from people. Once off this pass, they could fade back into the forest again and follow the road to the city. On the other, even just standing with Maarje on his back was making him feel ill again and he really wasn't sure how far they'd get. And he had no idea if he could trust them and wasn't sure he even trusted his instincts about it given Gray and Styles.

The three Specters stayed quiet as Caleb hesitated. They hoped they'd convinced him, but none of them wanted to risk pushing him into flight with undue pressure. Oddly enough, it was Maarje who broke the deadlock. She had stayed quiet so far, arms around Caleb's neck and regarding Hera with thoughtful brown eyes. Hera met them with her easy smile. Maarje nudged Caleb with her head and murmured. "It's okay, they're nice."

Caleb didn't quite dare give her the odd look he wanted to. She seemed very confident. But right now, even the vote of a seven year old swung him. He had to make a decision anyway, before the pause stretched too long.

"Thanks," he said quietly, still having to force it out against rattled instinct. "Shouldn't have tried to take the mountain pass in the suns."

"We were caught out by it too," said Sabine, skimming over his slightly-too-long pause. "The transport felt like an oven."

"And that's without being sat on," muttered Ezra.

"The doors have been open for the last hour or so, so it should be cooler now. We should move on. Is this exposed ridge much longer?" Hera looked at Caleb, since he seemed to have a rough idea of where he was going.

"About forty minutes by speeder," replied Caleb as they moved towards the transport. He gave it a rather doubtful look. "An hour, maybe," he hedged after seeing the rattletrap properly.

"It has some trouble with hills," said Ezra. "And straights. And slopes. Downwards." Sabine poked him.

"Quit complaining and get in, it's my turn for the front seat."

"There's one more member of the group," said Hera casually, only just remembering not to say "crew" in time. Zeb, up on the roof of the speeder still sunning himself, decided this was as good a moment as any to introduce himself. He rolled over and a large purple head with, Caleb noted immediately, fangs, suddenly presented itself right overhead.

"'Ello," said Zeb laconically. He felt slightly bad at the flash of alarm in the kid's eyes – and how the small Twi'lek's lekku flattened against her head - and looked at Hera sheepishly. Hera sighed into her palm.

"That was not how I wanted that introduction to go," she muttered. "Zeb's fine, he's with us." Although Caleb couldn't prevent that start as Zeb suddenly appeared, he didn't show any other sign of it in his expression. Not showing undue alarm or curiosity in the appearance of a strange race was something that had been drilled in as part of their training as envoys and diplomats as well as warriors. He nodded to him.

"Nice to meet you, Zeb." It was a bit bald, but he was suddenly struck by the realisation that he was going to have to change almost everything that had been drilled into him over years. Including the modes of speech adopted from the Jedi Temple, what he appeared to know about events going on, even how to address various ranks. He needed to be unnoticed. _So_ _not freezing up when someone introduces themselves…unexpectedly would be a start_.

The awkward moment past, and encouraged on with a poke from Ezra beside him, Caleb climbed inside, letting Maarje down to clamber in herself. She stayed close to him inside the transport – and once the big Lasat was inside, it became necessary for her to perch on Caleb's lap anyway. It was a bit of a squeeze for everyone, and Sabine gave Ezra a mischievous look as she secured the front passenger seat.

"So, what's yer names, kid?" asked Zeb, nearly shunting Ezra off the seat entirely as he shuffled to get comfortable. Ezra gave him a baleful look and pointedly wriggled as much as he could to get his share of the seat back. This made very little difference to Zeb, who weighed about as much as four Ezras. Ezra gave it up after a moment, looking back at Caleb curiously. Although the pause inside the transport was natural enough, they were all curious as to what answer he would give, Hera's hand hovering over the ignition switch as she didn't want to miss it either.

"Ca-" He realised his mistake as soon as he started it and jumped for a save. "-nan. Canan Lind." Try and find that name in a galaxy of Humans. It wasn't a howlingly obvious everyname, but it was certainly not going to narrow things down much.

Hera and Sabine exchanged glances in the front, Sabine trying to fight down a smile. _Well, that makes things a bit easier_ , thought Hera with relief. _As long as I don't now call him "Caleb". Wonder when he dropped the "Lind"?_ She hoped that this wasn't a sign they'd changed something, but there was also every possibility that he'd taken and dropped a few names in his escape. It would probably be sensible to ensure that "Kanan Jarrus" had no tracks back to Kaller, where Caleb had escaped.

"This is Mira," he added, giving the child a gentle squeeze with the arms around her as she perched on his lap to silently impress the name on her. If she really objected, they could find something else later, but it'd do for now. "Mira" waved.

"You've met us, Sabine's up front with Hera driving," said Ezra, rushing through the names a bit as he was struck again by the concern of Kanan remembering them later. Hera decided that this would be a good idea and turned on the engine. The ancient transport groaned to life.

"We're only passing through," said Sabine from the front. "Lot of people on the road. Refugees?"

The newly named Canan nodded in the back. "Yeah, the Separatists invaded first and took the city, but the Republic army division has been here the last few months dealing with them. A lot of Kallerans have been liberated from Separatist labour camps and the ones with nowhere to go to head to the city. Have you been on Kaller long?"

Sabine looked at Hera. Anything to do with how they were to fit in here seemed best to leave to her.

"Not exactly, no. We got diverted here, had a bad landing and need to get to the spaceport," Hera replied. Canan nodded again. It wasn't an uncommon situation. Although the range of ages and species in the transport was a bit more so.

"Spaceport's not back to full capacity yet," he warned them. "Only running flights every other day still. Got blown up when the city was retaken."

"Good to know," responded Hera, filing this information away. "Anything else we should know about the city itself?"

Canan did a quick mental inventory of what he knew and how much he should know as a refugee stray. Mhm, at this point it was all common knowledge.

"West side is mostly rubble. That was part of the industrial district and the military district. Damage in the east too, so roads are still blocked off. Most of the centre survived or is being rebuilt. Lot of homeless, a few crime syndicates have taken over certain sectors in the damaged areas. Plateau City's not considered safe to go around alone at the moment outside the centre."

The transport was starting to descend the loop towards the base of the mountain again. For a few moments, there was a vast panorama of trees and, nearer to the grey city in the distance, rolling fields. Although while they should have been greens and golds, swathes of them were black and grey.

"What happened over there?" asked Ezra, pointing towards the area. Canan followed his movement. "One of the battles for Plateau City. Mostly the first battle, the Separatist bombardment of the city."

"How do the Kallerans feel about the Republican army?" asked Hera, glancing back. The more they knew about this world and where various sympathies lay, the better.

"They're not keen on them," Canan replied without expression, but inwardly consciously remembering to change his pronouns. "The Separatists invaded an independent world here, and made demands for labour and billet. The Republic army did its best to keep the fighting from the settlements and haven't demanded Kalleran resources, but they're suspicious of armies in general. They want all of us outsiders to go away and let them alone." _Wonder what they think of us now_ , flashed across his mind with gallows humour. _So much for the good impression Master Billaba might've made yesterday; the army mutinied_.

Sabine was leaning against her window, looking out of it rather listlessly in the heat, although listening with half an ear to the conversation. She wished for once she could change out of her armour. Or out of the transport. Separatists…armour…her eyes widened as two dots suddenly connected and she realised a serious oversight.

"Hera," she said quietly under Caleb's words, attracting the older woman's attention. "My armour…" When Hera glanced over questioningly, Sabine had lifted the corner of her robe to indicate her brightly painted armour with a nod. " _Separatist_ armour," she mouthed as Canan finished his explanation.

Hera looked forward again. Damn. She couldn't remember offhand what the Empire had done with the remaining Separatists, but she had a general instinct that they probably weren't welcomed with open arms. They needed clothing, somewhere big enough to sell it.

"Kanan, are there any stops between here and the city? We need some clothing for Sabine here. We weren't part of the conflict, but I doubt they'll be understanding about Mandalorian armour." _Better he know about it than see it under her wrap._

Canan did glance up sharply at that, but kept his expression carefully still as he considered that. _What are my reactions supposed to be?_ He needed a story for them, something he could work from rather than flying by the seat of his pants and risking contradictions.

"I doubt it too," he replied after a moment. "There's a town on the western path to the city, but it's more likely to sell cloth than clothes. Might be able to get something if it's a market day." _What day even is it?_ "If you want to get to it, it's the turn off this road at the base of the hill."

Hera nodded once. "Might be best. You know the area well," she added, glancing back at him in the rearview, wondering herself had Kanan thought through how much he should know about the area yet. She saw his eyes flick to meet hers a moment and then look away again.

"We were part of a trader caravan," he said, using the idea that had half-formed in his mind. "Traded between the army posts on various planets. We've been to Kaller a few times now."

Zeb decided to take a hand. "Bit small fer a trading caravan, aren't you?" he commented, looking at the pair. Canan regarded him back evenly.

"We're not all of it. There was some sort of disturbance in the army camp last night. Whatever happened, the traders cleared out in the confusion. Lost our train." It held water. It was highly unlikely the traders that had been at the camp had stuck around after the shooting started. Army camp traders could pack up and be on the road with ten minutes warning and absolutely would if the fighting got too close. It also gave some cover for his being Human and her being Twi'lek on a planet of Kallerans. He doubted it would do much for the clone troopers, but for refugees, he should get away with it.

"Oh, so you're going to go meet them in the city?" asked Ezra casually, trying not to appear too curious either.

Canan took it. "If they're there, yeah. They might have jumped planet by now, depending on what things are like in the city."

"What happened in the camp?" Ezra again, but as he looked over at Kanan, he saw the boy's slightly wary expression close off entirely.

"I don't know. Didn't get close enough to see," he said firmly and in a way that did not encourage any more questions.

"Leave Kanan alone, Ezra," said Sabine from the front. "You're like a perpetual question machine."

Ezra made a face at her back, since he'd only been responsible for 50% of the questions anyway. Still… he looked back over to Kanan.

"Sorry, don't mean to be nosey," he said with a friendly smile. Kanan nodded back to him in acknowledgement.

"Not many people out here will answer questions," he replied after a moment. "Most of them are refugees and are running from something. No-one really trusts either army. Questions aren't safe in wartime. Even for civilians."

Hera tilted her head slightly as she listened to the conversation in the back. The last part was an unwritten rule throughout the galaxy over the past twenty years or so. It was unusual to hear it said, but it was true. They didn't ask about each other's pasts unless the information was volunteered and that was rare enough. Questions weren't safe in wartime.

 _And isn't it always wartime?,_ she thought to herself as she took the left-hand turn off the main road, heading north. There was no settlement at this crossroads, although there were one or two ruined huts nearby, not yet fully reclaimed by the trees.

The silence lasted until the road curved down again, heading for the plains. The town was set in the fields outside the city, the blackened region stretching a long tongue towards it, and from here it looked like some houses on the far western edge of the town had been hit as well. As they road curved, the damage to the city walls beyond became more apparent. Canan shifted Mira a bit on his lap as his right leg was starting to go numb. She had dozed off. It looked like a good idea, but Canan was still far too nervous to risk it. He looked out the window instead, pushing back against sleepiness exacerbated by the warmth but then glanced back to Ezra. Perhaps it was a bit of discomfort at having shut the boy down so firmly, when in all likelihood he was just trying to be friendly. And perhaps it was a natural instinct to reach out to someone who was being friendly. Or just an attempt to fight falling asleep. Whatever the reason, he nodded to the walls, catching Ezra's attention.

"That's where the clone army broke through to retake the city," he said briefly. "The walls were already weakened from the bombardment." As Ezra looked back, his eyes interested, Canan gave a quick, but lucid description of the battle, his source offered as "a trooper". Although his expression remained normal, he was focussing intently on how he spoke, deliberately training himself to talk from a civilian perspective and avoid giving a battle report. The sooner he figured this sort of thing out, the better. The rest found themselves listening; in Hera and Zeb's case critically, listening for weak points as they fully appreciated how dangerous they might be, in Sabine and Ezra's, just with interest. He told it well, and there wasn't quite enough to place him as having been there personally.

 _You need to stop worrying, Hera_ , she told herself. _He's perfectly capable even now of thinking on his feet. Anyway, he did this before. Even if not with an Inquisitor stalking him that time._ She shifted gear as the transport limped back along the gentler slope at the base of the mountain, descending onto the plains. Trees still lined the road, likely for protection for walkers from the hot sun (or the rain of the rest of the year), but they could see glimpses of fields beyond them. Hera was starting to be able to relax her vigilance for particularly bad potholes, but tree roots did still cause bumps. Everyone had given up complaining though. Anyone else would probably do significantly worse.

It was at this point that there was an unexpected interruption. Whether it was the talk of the clone troops or a natural reaction that would have happened anyway, Maarje was tensing up and shivering. Canan looked down in alarm and placed a hand on her shoulder to gently shake her awake. He regretted it instantly, as the child woke up sharply with a cry, gesturing a "get away!" with a spark of Force energy that shoved against everyone near her, pressing Ezra and Zeb against the windows. She babbled a stream of words that Canan, panicking and also stuck fast in his chair, talked over, catching the odd giveaway word. She subsided, shaking, and the pressure released. Canan hugged her, looking warily at the group ahead for just how much damage had been done. He had no idea what the few Twi'lek words she had spoken had meant and didn't like one bit that Hera might have caught them. The Basic words he had caught had included Master Kuso's name and a reference to "them" dying across the galaxy. He hoped it wasn't enough. These refugees at least didn't seem to know anything about this world. And perhaps what had happened to the Jedi on Kaller would take longer to filter through.

Before the ghastly silence could stretch too far, Zeb raised his voice in grumbling protest. "Hera, will you drive straight?" he demanded. Ezra flopped into his seat again and, while he flicked a glance back at Kanan and Mira, he too glared towards the front.

While Hera would usually defend her driving ability to the limit, she was as grateful as Canan was at the excuse. "Hey, if you want to come navigate this road in this tin can, you're welcome to, Zeb," she responded with mock sharpness. "Mira alright there, Kanan?"

"She's fine," he responded cautiously. "She just has nightmares is all. Over-tired from the walk." Mira had subsided to sniffles into Canan's shoulder. Had they actually gotten away with that? He wasn't sure, despite Zeb's words. Although at that moment, the back of the speeder dropped into a large pothole, banging everyone in the back around again. He winced as he shook out his arm, having cracked his elbow against the side. He lowered his head to whisper a few words to Mira, who nodded, but kept her face buried.

Hera resettled the speeder on the road after the pothole she had deliberately driven across, hoping the moment was passed.

"Sorry about that. The road isn't the best here. Bombardment or..?" She looked back at Kanan, who shook his head.

"Probably just wear and tear out here. The Kallerans haven't really been able to run their own world for the last year or so and it goes bad quickly with all the tree roots. Doubt this road was much interest to the Separatists. -Oh, you're in luck. There is a market today."

Hera glanced back questioningly at the assurance. Canan nodded out the window to where yellow ribbons were tied around some of the narrower trunks along the road.

"The ribbons. Market-day ribbons. Reading and writing isn't universal on this planet. Not in Basic anyway. Town's around the next bend, I think. Don't usually come at it from this direction."

"You're right; here's the town anyway. Or most of it," Hera replied as they took the bend and found themselves approaching another crossroads, looking down the road to where it lead out of the town again. The blackened ground stretched right across the road at the far end, and it was clear that the last couple of houses were abandoned. The ground beyond was pock-marked with craters, although the road itself had survived.

"They were lucky, although I guess they didn't feel that way," remarked Sabine, also squinting down the road in the sunshine.

"Left at the crossroads. The market'll be in the field behind." Canan found his stomach knotting again, disliking the stop. The longer they took to get to the city, the more likely the troopers were to be actively searching it. But he would still make better time with the group than walking. Sabine would draw attention in the Separatist armour, attention he didn't want. And Hera was cover for Maar- _Mira_ , he corrected himself firmly. Best to forget her real name as soon as possible.

* * *

Hera pulled in at the field, the transport grumbling as it was forced to deal with softer ground and grass rather than proper hardpack. It was no life for a hoverbus and it appeared to be trying to make this clear as the group in the back were rattled around. Canan swallowed hard as nausea rose. Okay, okay, he was fine with stopping for the market. Before he threw up on Zeb, which probably wouldn't go down well. Hera slotted the speeder in between two other identical ones and leaned back in her seat with a sigh. Her arms were tired from having to keep tight control on the rickety old thing.

"Might be best if you wait here, Sabine – you too, Canan, don't think you need any more sun," she added with a smile back to him. "Do you want to come though, Mira?"

"Yeah, I'll stay too," said Zeb, shunting Ezra aside so he could get to the door. "Don't think they'll be too used to seeing Lasat here."

"Hrmph, well, I'll go," said Ezra grumpily as he wriggled loose. "Better'n staying here being sat on."

Mira gave Canan a hopeful look. He looked at her, and then to Hera, studying her in the rearview as she looked at the field. He wasn't quite comfortable with letting the youngling out of his sight, but she'd probably fit in better with the other Twi'lek anyway. He nodded and Mira's face lit up.

"Stay close to Hera then, Mira." Hera's eyes flicked to the rearview a moment as Canan spoke and they met the teenager's. Although he'd looked away almost instantly, she had seen a crack in his façade. Hera saw suspicion, wariness, but also hope and something either questioning or beseeching. She wondered what the question was, but suspected it was would she protect Mira. It looked like he'd decided to trust her. _It's okay, Kanan. I'll look after her_. She kept up her glance in the rearview for a few moments longer in case he looked back, hoping he'd understand her. _You can trust us._

Mira climbed out, stretching her legs once she was standing on the grass. Her instincts were saying to trust the travellers so she was mostly unworried. Canan, far less confident of his own, found himself reluctant to leave the transport. However, the discomfort of the heat coupled with the sunburn lured him out, and he moved around to the shadey side of the transport, thankful that it was also a side protected from view from both the road and the market. Sabine and Zeb had also sought one or the other reason and he nodded to them as he sat down against the transport. Sabine had her wrap around her as loosely as she could manage and looked overheated and annoyed. Zeb was leaning against someone else's transport, all but his legs in the shade, and looking more contented with life. He nodded back. "Ey."

Sabine smiled greeting. "Hey Kanan. Much better out here." She looked down at the wrap. "Or would be without this on," she allowed.

Canan looked over and gave her an awkward smile. "Unlucky arriving here in that," he said. He really wasn't in the mood for talking, but his moods had to take a back seat to survival, which included not being rude to the people helping him. Besides, they had all been genuinely nice to them.

"Yeah. But leaving it behind is not an option."

Canan hooked his arms around one drawn-up knee, the other leg out in front of him as his thoughts flickered to his lightsaber. "Do you get much trouble for it?"

Sabine shrugged. "Not usually more than I can handle. I'm not going to turn down a better disguise than a blanket here though. We're not usually in this situation. As much as I know of it. Do you know how the war stands here?"

"The Separatists are mostly captured or fled here, the Republic has reclaimed nearly all of Kaller. But the Kallerans are resentful."

"Have you had any trouble for being a Human here?" asked Sabine. "Or really, do they pick fights with offworlders?"

"I've not had any trouble," said Canen. "Although no local's going to attack a trader or even insult them too much. Losing the train would hurt the town." Substitute Jedi and army for that, which might also have kept people polite even if they had a particular problem, but it was true enough for traders as well. "The people on the road were mostly just trying to get to the city. Maybe we got lucky, but no-one came near us." He shuffled sideways out of the sunlight as it crept after him. Zeb seemed to be revelling in the heat, as long as his face was out of the direct light. Canan could very much leave it at the moment. Although the heat was making him ridiculously sleepy. He folded his legs under him, automatically kneeling as was comfortable, before realising what he was doing and sitting back against the transport, crossing them instead. If only so he didn't automatically assume a meditative stance again.

"Spare wrap in the transport if you want it. Well, Hera's, but she's not using it," said the sunbathing Lasat without opening his eyes. Canan gave him a rather startled look and wondered just how good his hearing was. He stood up again. "Yeah, good idea. The sunburn isn't keen on this heat." He headed around the transport again, gathering the wrap from the front seat. As he tossed it over his shoulders, he happened to glance again to the entrance and his eyes narrowed in the bright light as he saw two transports threading their way in. As he watched, the door of one opened and two clone troopers appeared, taking up positions at the exit. Canan turned greenish-white and glanced around for either escape or a hiding place. He froze between back into the van and around the side but then darted around the back of it.

"Army," he said as shortly as possible. It might scare the hell out of _him_ , but they probably wouldn't understand his urgency. "You need cover," he added to Sabine. She did and at least that was a problem they could understand. Zeb sat forward with a growl but as he was straightening, they heard quick footsteps approaching. The away team swiftly followed and Sabine was tossed an armful of material by Ezra. Canan kept as close to the cover of the van as possible, hearing orders being shouted from the centre of the field, amongst the stalls. Sabine rapidly pulled on a long robe in a bright ochre shade over her armour and turned the thick padded overtunic around a few times as she worked out which way of this foreign fashion was up. As she fastened it, footsteps approached from around the open side of the transport. She dropped her hands, looking properly respectable a moment before two clone troopers came into view, holding their blasters raised.

"Into the centre for processing," one said briefly, indicating the direction with a nod over his shoulder. There wasn't a choice, so the Spectres reluctantly moved, Zeb glowering at the clones as he passed with the same expression reserved for Stormtroopers he wasn't allowed to kill. Canan cast Hera's back a worried glance and then leaned down to murmur something to Mira. She squeezed his hand and then threaded through the group to stay close to the other Twi'lek. Hera glanced down as she felt the small presence at her side and looked back long enough to give Canan a reassuring smile. He saw it, although couldn't quite manage a smile back, casting a quick glance at the clone troopers as he passed, scanning for their unit sigil. He knew it, but not well. Not one of the units under General Billaba at the front. Then again, if they had been, they'd probably have just opened fire. _Small mercies... but it won't last once they take a proper look at us,_ he thought, keeping himself calm as he kept watch for an opportunity to escape.

* * *

The Spectres kept together as they were ushered to a gathering annoyed crowd. There were about a dozen troopers, who had efficiently corralled the market-goers. The Kallerans were being released bar one or two, but offworlders were being herded into a space guarded by six of the clones. They were being polite about it, but it was very clear by weapons in hand if not raised that objecting wasn't an option.

Confusion was always an option though, and the mixed crowd that the Spectres joined was milling around several more clone troopers at the front in an effort to hear what was going on and why they were being detained. The dismissed Kallerans were mostly busily packing stalls or else they were heading out the gate. Market Day ended when the army showed up. There was a lot of aggravated muttering going on, which in a crowd of this size was magnified alarmingly. By dint of both tact and shouting, the troopers got things organised. Two groups of two troopers nodded people in the crowd forward and asked them a few questions, consulting a datapad. It mostly didn't take long, and the interviewee was nodded to a second pen. Canan scanned the area for anything that might help them escape. Nothing obvious was appearing Some hasty glances as the crowd shifted let him see that at least they didn't seem to have holoimages but he was going to match even the most cursory description. He stayed back in the crowd, waiting for the opportunity to slip from the "to be processed" group to the "already processed" group. Mira would be far safer with the adult Twi'lek and he was as sure as he could be that Hera would claim her if questioned. He on the other hand was toast if he didn't get from here to there.

It wasn't entirely at random from the front either. Zeb was nodded forward early, despite being back with the rest of the Spectres. He scowled blackly as he moved forward, making it as awkward a business as he could. Hera kept hold of Mira's hand and glanced over her shoulder to where the two teenage boys were staying a few steps behind. They couldn't risk being right at the back beside the clonetrooper at the rear either. The crowd was big enough for them to get away with it for now, but even as Hera looked back forward through the thinning crowd she could see time was rapidly running out.

* * *

AN: *cough* Sorry that took so long, combination of being away and ill. It will not be cliff-hangered for long!

Casey Storm: Ezra's naturally curious - and he's naturally friendly too. Caleb's currently in flight mode and doesn't really know what to make of the Spectres at all. He's drawn to Hera, and she's a godsend given the problem of Maarje so there's that. He's kinda drawn to Ezra but a bit wary of his openness and questions. The other two are mostly blurs still, albeit one a lot more attractive than the other!


	7. Chapter 7: The Army Advances

**Chapter 7. Two Padawans and a Twi'lek Child**

 _(AKA "The Army Advances" because the above was too long.)_

 _Dirin-Va Village, Kaller_

* * *

As the first few offworlders were filtered into the processed pen, a sergeant came forward to address the crowd. The annoyed hum died down as he approached the main group, subsiding with the more-or-less patience of a group of aggravated civilians being ordered around by military blasters.

"You will not be detained long. The Imperial army is seeking two escaped Jedi, Caleb Dume and Ginia Tix. Each of you will be called forward, asked a few questions and released. You will see their descriptions, and you are strongly advised to report any sightings in this area. There is a reward for any information leading to their capture or termination." He turned to move back to his partner questioning a human male, a trader from the army camp. The interrogatee was plainly hostile from the nose up but his mouth was answering questions so it was being allowed to pass.

Behind him, the crowd's voice rose again, a few shouting questions as it became apparent that was all the sergeant was going to say.

"What Imperial army?!"

"Weren't the Jedi on your side?" were the two questions that made themselves heard most clearly over the annoyed susurration. Canan glanced to his right as the second question had come from there somewhere.

The sergeant ignored the questions, brusquely dismissing the trader and nodding the next forward. Canan frowned, focussing on the man. _Given what communication is like on this planet, I wonder if you know much more than I do? Although since you have the most immediately relevant stuff, I guess it doesn't matter. It would be nice to know what the hells is happening though._ He shook off the thought, and the other thought, that at least Tix had apparently survived too. Both were distractions.

The crowd subsided again as it became clear answers weren't forthcoming. No-one was particularly happy, but no-one was arguing with the army (any army; there was apparently a choice of up to three now) and the processing was progressing swiftly. Canan had noted Ezra was staying back behind Hera with him, and wondered if he knew they were looking for a teenage boy and a small Twi'lek as well, or if it was co-incidence. He didn't really want to ask though, not least as his mind was far more focussed on what he'd do when he was finally nodded forward rather than what his fellow travellers felt about being stopped and interrogated. He started at a clone voice behind him, but the hand laid firmly on an arm to draw a teenage boy out of the crowd had alighted on Ezra's shoulder rather than his own. Canan slipped more forward into the crowd as Ezra was drawn out to be interrogated, feeling his cover was getting more and more scarce.

Ezra's questioning took a bit longer, as at the very least he matched "teenager, Human, male" and Canan hoped that the kid wouldn't say anything inadvertently dangerous. He had no idea what people actually knew about the situation or why there was an army hunt ongoing for Jedi. And Ezra seemed a bit open. However, he seemed to be doing fine and while there was a bit of a debate between the two stormtroopers questioning him, he was sent off to the processed pen. He was a little surprised that the scope-holder at Ezra's side wasn't enquired into more, since it was a tad incongruous on a fourteen-year-old with no blaster that would take a scope of that size, and it occurred to him that something like that would be a good cover for his lightsaber hilt. However, that was a solution for later, if there was a later. For now he had to hope that the lack of physical searches so far would hold true for him as well. Although if it really came down to it, he was probably going to end up using his lightsaber. If the options were fight them or just be shot, it wasn't much of a choice. So although he kept the hilt as well-covered as possible, his hand stayed close to his side, ready to extricate it as soon as things went to hell, which they were almost certainly going to do.

He turned his focus onto the questioning at the front as Sabine was called forward. She slipped from the crowd easily, keeping her arms down and lightly folded in front of her, ensuring her sleeves didn't ride up and reveal the armour beneath, and her body language was broadcasting totally credible innocent confusion. She seemed cool under pressure and as long as no-one grabbed her arm she would probably be okay. The dusky red overtunic covered up the slight bulking of her shape from the armour below the long undertunic. At worst, the costume was a little large for her, but that wasn't particularly suspicious. Clothing could be hard to come by and clothing for teenagers and children often had some growing room in them where possible, especially with resources scarce.

* * *

.

Hera glared at the man beside her as he crowded too close, also scanning for a way out of this. The red-faced and irritated Human was restless and inclined to shift about with no regard for anyone nearby. He'd already stood on her foot. The woman pretending not to be with him was by contrast standing very still in her long hooded wrap with her arms folded. Once Hera had caught a look of fury directed at his shifting and muttering but she paid them little attention overall.

There were still about twenty people in their group. Hera watched Sabine's questioning with slightly narrowed eyes. She and Ezra were both in a dangerous situation compared to herself or Zeb. Hera strained to hear as the two stormtroopers with Sabine conferred over the datapad, relieved that apparently the Human male was trying to listen too. At least he'd stopped shuffling and wasn't breathing so hoarsely.

"Pink hair?" A trooper inspected the pad, looking suspiciously from the screen to Sabine. Sabine smiled disarmingly. "It's only half-pink," she pointed out, indicating her white roots.

The second looked over his shoulder. "It says red anyway." The first still hesitated, likely due to a strong appreciation of the consequences of letting a Jedi slip through. The second looked at Sabine again.

"That's nowhere near red. She doesn't have blue eyes either. Go on, Miss." The trooper nodded Sabine onwards. The Mandalorian girl gave Hera a troubled glance but headed towards the processed group. An explosion wasn't the answer here, not in the middle of a tight crowd of refugees and innocent market-goers.

"Ugh, the sooner the Captain gets here with the proper holoimages the better," grumbled the one with the datapad. He nodded Hera and the child with her forward.

"Bet the speeder broke down again." The other had dropped his voice for the exchange, but Hera was near enough to hear by then. She gave them a smile, holding Mira's hand.

"Names? And is this child yours?"

"Hera Ryeet, pilot, and this is my daughter, Mira." She pulled a name from the air, figuring it best not to use the name of a well-known clan just in case any of them were familiar with Ryloth. "We're part of a group, you've seen those three and there's another still to come." She nodded first towards the trio and then back to Canan, for what little cover it might provide him.

"Hello," said the child politely with a cautious smile. Hera squeezed her hand encouragingly. She could feel how tense the small hand was in hers, and she was relieved at the kid's self-possession. It was hard to tell if the small-child charm was working with the troopers behind their helms, but one of them nodded.

"Any of them come from or were picked up on Kaller?" asked the clone trooper, the blank helm regarding Hera again.

"All offworlders. We had a bad landing and are heading to Plateau City to the spaceport." She turned slightly as she spoke, so her voice would be more audible from Kanan's position.

"As you heard, there are fugitive Jedi in this area, ma'am. Including a young Twi'lek. There's a reward for information leading to their capture if you should see them." He turned the pad so she could see the worryingly detailed description of a Caleb Dume and another escapee and noted that "a Twi'lek female of seven or eight" had neither name nor much of a description. Humans were so careless when it came to differentiating other species.

"Jedi?" she asked innocently. "I thought they were part of the army of the Republic?"

"The Jedi were declared traitors to the R- to the new Empire after an attempt to assassinate Emperor Palpatine. They are extremely dangerous and it is imperative you report any sighting of these people. Do not attempt to engage either of the older ones. Caleb Dume and Ginia Tix may look like harmless teenagers, but they are far more dangerous than they appear."

Hera scanned over it again, mostly attempting to buy time. _Kanan, how did you get out of this last time?,_ she thought in frustration. There weren't many people left behind her. And then it struck her that there was no reason to think he had been here last time. They'd come to the market because they'd needed a disguise for Sabine. _Don't interfere,_ the warning flashed through her mind again. She swallowed and gave the troopers a rather weak smile.

"No engaging Jedi, I understand. Not likely to come across them anyway." Regroup with the others and if they had to fight their way out of here…she hoped the timeline would cope with it. She reluctantly turned as the troopers nodded her courteously but firmly over towards the processed line, casting a worried glance back to Canan's rather white face in the small group left. As she did, her eye was caught by another movement as the woman she'd noticed earlier turned her head to say something to the man who had been annoying Hera. Whatever she said, she saw his face darken from red to purple and he suddenly grabbed her shoulder and shoved her forward towards the troopers.

"She's one of them!" he shouted to them. "Saw're arrive at the camp, Ginia Tix!"

The woman was taken by surprise and tripped on the hem of her robe as she stumbled forward, falling heavily on her hands and knees. Her hood slipped off in the fall, revealing bright auburn hair. Hera pushed the child back quickly as the clones converged on the fallen Jedi. The crowd had started forward at the sudden interruption and she felt Mira's hand pull loose. Hera cursed silently as she pushed through the crowd, seeing Mira wriggle out and dash back towards Canan.

"Mira!" she called, wide eyes meeting Canan's across the field a moment, as he attempted to shoo the kid back towards her. Mira had grabbed his arm and seemed to be talking urgently to him.

Canan had barely time to recognise at least two of the trio he had seen that morning as a few moments after the accusation had been cast (with one of those moments being lost on _Wait, that isn't Tix),_ Mira was hurtling back towards him. His eyes met Hera's alarmed ones as he tried to fend her off.

"Mira? What are you doing - go back to Hera!" The kid was frantically whispering in his ear and he was only catching the half of it. The gist seemed to be that the man who'd pushed her had evil intent and wanted her dead and they had to help her. Given he'd just accused her of being a Jedi and shoved her into the clone troopers, Canan absolutely couldn't argue with that but he had no idea how they could help her without getting all three of them killed. Mira was on the edge of hysterics and was nearer to bursting into tears that he'd seen her yet. He watched frozen as the clones trained their blasters on the fallen woman, chilled again by their complete lack of hesitation. Their victim seemed frozen as well, trying to speak, but unable to manage anything above a panicked whimper.

The crowd growled around the children; confused, trapped and in many cases horrified. It didn't seem to worry the troopers at all, despite best efforts to get the Kallerans onside as recently as yesterday. The odd details flashed through his head, the same sense of unreality at the whole situation, but then he landed back in the present. She wasn't a Jedi and they were going to kill her as one. Canan muttered a quick reassurance to Mira and gave her a push back towards Hera. Then the young Jedi took a quick breath and decided to trust in the Force (and not give himself any time to think about just what a terrible, terrible idea this was) before he pushed through the group remaining and out into the circle, calling out to the clone troopers.

* * *

.

Several of the clones had managed to control the larger group again, pushing them out from the processing area and gesturing for crowding Kallerans at the far edges to move back. Zeb stood firmly where he was, with Ezra in his lee hanging onto Sabine's sleeve. Zeb couldn't actually move forward at all, but at the least the crowd was gradually thinning in front of him as smaller people were pushed back around him. He glared down at someone as they elbowed him in the stomach. The culprit carefully pulled his elbows in and attempted to sidle around him. Ezra was straining to see above or around people.

"Did Kanan get over?" he asked, looking up at the only member of the group that had a hope of seeing anything.

"Don't see him, but there's Hera. Keep a hold." Zeb made a path through the crowd by the simple expedient of weighing as much as any two of the others present, coupled with a blithe ignoring of mere conventions such as courtesy or physics. Several people ended up bruised from his passage as they were squeezed against others before being able to fall back behind him. Ezra and Sabine were dragged along in the Lasat's wake, occasionally apologising to the unlucky travellers in their way. Zeb reached Hera, pulling Ezra out behind him from between two people that had milled back too soon. Hera glanced back as they joined her, her face tight as the kid popped out like a cork.

"What's Mira doing over there?" started Ezra as Kanan pushed Mira back towards them and then – apparently tried to commit suicide?

"Wait, don't! She's not a Jedi!"

"What the kriffin' hell is he doing?" asked Zeb as he watched Kanan actively go and accost the clone troopers who had his specific description and orders to kill on sight. None of them had a good answer, but Ezra shoved past Zeb and evaded a clone trooper's attempt to grab his arm, skeetering under his glove with the ease of long practice and darting over to Kanan. The clones manning the nearest points turned their blasters on Hera and Zeb though and, with another trooper still in front of them, they were forced to stay put.

* * *

Caleb didn't have a good answer either, but his sudden arrival had at least temporarily halted the execution. He kept talking, feeling horribly exposed as helms turned to look at him. He felt someone come up behind him and was both surprised and relieved to see it was Ezra.

"We passed them on the road earlier and I heard them talking. Anyway, she's pregnant. I bet your descriptions would include _that_." That stray thought came back to him and he felt a rush of relief. If they hadn't noticed it earlier, he would …have had to somehow explain how he knew she wasn't a Jedi if she fit the superficial description. Ezra stayed quiet and nodded agreement although he had no idea if Kanan was telling the truth about the second bit. He assumed so. Or things were going to go really badly.

There was a short pause, but the sergeant raised his hand. The clones lifted their weapons from their victim, who looked stunned still. She had realised what the kid was saying though and shrugged off her heavy wrap with shaking hands, proving he was telling the truth.

The sergeant assisted the woman to her feet, while two of his men strode over to the waiting group and, ignoring her accuser's attempt to back up, took him firmly by the elbows and pulled him out into the circle. The man glared at Canan but then his eyes bulged. Canan tried not to back up a few paces. He didn't know the man, but that was a gleam of recognition in _his_ eyes. Ezra, having a general bad feeling about this, shifted between Kanan and the group, glaring back at him.

" _That's_ a Jedi," spluttered the man, pointing at Canan, who had to control an impulse to bolt for it. "I was a trader at the camp, I saw him there!"

By now the woman had recovered and she turned on him, eyes afire.

" _He's_ a Jedi, _I'm_ a Jedi, did you space your brain? Ginia Tix? I'm your kriffing _wife_ , you piece of _shit_!" Apparently her feelings could be summed up far better with violence than words, as she pulled back and punched him in the face. She flew after him as he stumbled backwards and several clones moved in to try and separate the pair.

Canan decided that this was his best chance and started to edge back to the processed group but a white-gloved hand was placed firmly on his shoulder. He glanced back to a white helm looking down at him.

"Not that the sergeant won't be relieved an innocent civilian wasn't executed, but you fit the description too. With me, boy." Canan didn't have much choice as he was steered a few steps away from the melee. Ezra followed persistently, but was shooed away by the clone trooper. He had to settle for standing about ten steps away, watching the pair with his arms crossed. His eyes flickered to the row that was going on as both participants of the marital drama/possible attempted murder aired their grievances at the top of their lungs, apparently completely unbothered by the large and now fascinated captive audience. The troopers were attempting to regain some dignity to the situation with limited success. While normally Ezra would be amused to see stormtroopers in disarray, it did mean he couldn't hear a kriffing thing.

Caleb analysed his situation. No matter how he looked at it, it was an objectively poor outlook. "All things considered," he tried. "Would I have come and spoken to you if I was a Jedi?"

"Probably not, but there's not many that fit the description as well as you do. Name?" The clone trooper sounded brisk but not particularly malevolent. As he remembered the clones being two days ago. But he knew just how fast that would change if they identified him as a Jedi.

"Canan Lind. I'm here with a group, two Twi'leks, two Humans and a Lasat. Can I see the description?" He didn't give him time to answer, moving a step to the side to look at the datapad. He felt a chill at the detail. It even included scars. There was no normal way to argue his way out of this and that row nearby was going to be subdued sooner rather than later. Perhaps the trooper was being more cautious after the near miss and was checking carefully, but any moment he was going to call attention.

While the idea of using his Force abilities in plain view of approximately fifty people went against every instinct he had right now, the idea of being blastered to death (plain view or otherwise) went against them even more strongly. He kept his gaze on the trooper, opening his mind to the Force and spoke softly but with conviction, hoping the melee would continue until he could convince the trooper to dismiss him.

" _There_ _is no-one here of this description. You have the wrong person_ ," said Canan quietly, carefully wielding his influence on the trooper. He didn't dare use the usual imperative where it might be overheard, focusing more on convincing the man to convince himself than triggering his impulse to follow orders. Nor did he risk an open gesture, raising his hand as if to push back his hair, and making it smoothly en route.

* * *

Ezra gave the back of the clone trooper planted in front of him a particularly evil look and moved pointedly to the side, folding his arms again as he watched Kanan and his captor speak. He glanced around for where the rest of the group were - they were thoroughly pinned in, with several troopers keeping an eye on Zeb. His bulling a path through the crowd with relative ease hadn't gone unnoticed. _This is bad_. Kanan looked sunburned and, well, like a refugee, but being a green-eyed human of the right age and gender on Kaller was already a bad start. His hand slipped down to his blaster as subtly as he could manage in the view of too many people, and used the stormtrooper's presence as an excuse to circle the conversation so he didn't have several more of them behind him when everything kicked off. Kanan seemed to be trying to talk his way out of it, although he couldn't hear a word over the shouting from the main argument. Bar the Spectres, the attention of the entire crowd and most of the remaining clone troopers was on that. Ezra's eyes narrowed as he noticed Kanan's hand move in a casual gesture as he brought it up to push back his hair.

"I…have the wrong person," muttered the clone to himself, sounding a bit confused. Canan nodded.

"I guess _it's all a waste of time_ ," he added, dropping the implanted thought into the relatively innocent sentence. "Since _you have the wrong person_ , am I _free to go_." It felt a lot more difficult to do it this way than with ordinary open instructions. It was also surprisingly difficult to ask a question without his inflection raising at the end and have it sound natural. And he hoped there hadn't been too many for the man to cope with. He really wanted to be away from here before someone put a stop to the argument. There was a knife-edge pause as the trooper stared at the datapad a moment longer.

"Yes…I have the wrong person, so you're free to go." CR-9846 gave up on whatever was buzzing at the edge of his mind. This was a waste of time anyway. There was no-one here of the description. He waved the kid off, looking back to where the row was finally starting to fade off, mostly as clones had managed to separate the two and were firmly hustling them in opposite directions. He scanned over the few remaining offworlders. Mostly elders including one that looked about ninety. For a moment, he missed fighting Separatists. It was much more direct and useful than bullying angry civilians. He shook off the stray thought with a puzzled frown. They were seeking dangerous fugitives to protect the Rep- the Empire. CR-9846 shook his head again as he rejoined the group. He just hoped Captain Gray would get the damned holo-images here soon before they had a mess on their hands.

* * *

.

Hera's hand moved away from her blaster although her other hand kept a hold of Mira's arm as the two boys retreated from the clone trooper, closing her eyes in an exhale of relief. She had no idea how the clone hadn't recognised Caleb but she was nearly as grateful as she suspected he was. The clones let him past easily, having seen him processed and dismissed, although he kept his face down anyway, nearly burrowing straight past the group before Ezra grabbed at his wrist, pulling him to them. Caleb looked strained under his otherwise neutral expression.

"Mistaken identity," he muttered, scooping up Mira, who was far too short to be in a crowd crammed together like this one was. That was his excuse anyway. He wasn't admitting even to himself that the small arms around his neck were comforting and he felt like he was going to throw up as reaction hit him.

The last few offworlders were processed quickly, filing over to the main crowd as the troopers at the back started to relax the kettling. Canan wasn't watching, lurking as much behind Zeb as he could manage and behind him into the crowd as the pressure started to relax. He didn't feel remotely safe yet and kept his head down as if talking to Mira, shaggy brown hair hanging over his eyes. The others, far more secure in having been safely passed, stayed between the two fugitives and the clone troopers with a co-operation that would have surprised him if he had been in a state to notice it. His ears pricked as he heard the sergeant raise his voice over the crowd.

"You've all seen the descriptions of the Jedi traitors. The Empire will reward information leading to the capture of Caleb Dume, Ginia Tix or the Twi'lek youngling. There is heavy punishment for anyone who makes false accusations." The man was still being held between two clone troopers and his body tensed as the sergeant glared at him. Everyone got the point.

"There will be troopers posted here for the next few days to check travellers passing through and any information can be passed to them." At the clone's nod, the woman was released, and pointed firmly away from her presumably-now-ex husband. She didn't glance at him, stalking towards the crowd. The sergeant gave the order and the clones withdrew, allowing the crowd to disperse. The Spectres pushed away from the resulting mill of confused and angry travellers and towards the transport. The market was definitely done after that incident and the narrow laneway was going to be difficult to get through once the remaining crowd descended on it.

* * *

Hera barely waited for people to find seats, although that Zeb had claimed the front this time meant that there was more room in the back for the four younger ones. There was already a stream of people heading for the gate and she wanted to be first out to avoid being caught. The transport bumped over the grass, rattling the group inside around. Canan braced himself between his seat and the back of Sabine's, keeping an arm across Mira to keep her in her seat too and hoped that his second conversation with Sabine wouldn't have to be apologising to her. He focused out the window to distract himself and spotted the red-haired woman getting into a transport nearby as they passed. Canan felt some distant relief at that. She deserved a better chance than having to make that walk to the city. He was at least distantly aware that whatever story had lead to that moment where their paths had briefly merged was likely grim.

The transport was silent until they had turned back onto the city road and were some distance along it. Canan was keeping his attention distantly out the window as he dealt with a few of the unpleasant revelations. Traitors? Gray had said as much too. How? What had happened? What kriffing Empire? Had Tix escaped – and if so, what happened to Master Jhesa? He scratched his nose, wincing as the sunburned skin stung. He thanked the Force that these troopers hadn't been part of his unit. Whatever had delayed the holoimages and/or taken his unit in a different direction, he was grateful for it. _It really hasn't been that long_ , he realised with a dull sense of surprise. The search of the forest would almost certainly continue for most of today as well, even if they were now calling in reinforcements on the road. And it could well get ahead of them. However, right now, they were alive and _relatively_ safe and that could have ended so much worse.

 _We were incredibly lucky just there_ , he thought. _Or the Force was with us_. The thought came in Depa Billaba's voice and he nearly smiled, feeling his scattered, whirling thoughts starting to settle. _The Force is with us. Although maybe don't make it impossible for it to help by walking up to clone troopers and practically asking them to shoot you._

* * *

Canan became aware as he calmed down that the transport was silent and that everyone in it had now seen their descriptions. They'd also heard that they – well, he at least, it was difficult to imagine the seven year old as a hardened criminal - was dangerous, a traitor and there was a reward for turning them in. On the other hand, they'd just had the opportunity to and hadn't.

 _And is this an awkward silence or is it just that they're all disturbed by clone troopers nearly executing an innocent civilian because they thought she was a Jedi, which really should be surprising to more than just me?_ He glanced away from the window to gauge what was actually happening in the speeder and found himself meeting Zeb's eyes in the rearview.

"So do you often go sticking yer neck out for strangers, kid?" asked the Lasat bluntly. Canan blinked, this not being even on the list of questions that he might have expected.

"..No?" he replied rather weakly, and heard a traitorous little snort from the seat beside him. He rolled his eyes. "She wasn't a Jedi. We passed them on the road this morning. She was just a refugee. He was trying to dump her. And the chances of the Jedi they were looking for being pregnant were _really_ low." Regaining his composure a bit, he stared back at Zeb's reflection.

"What's this Empire he mentioned? Last I checked, that was the army of the Grand Republic. And they're not usually that trigger-happy either." Zeb looked away first, glancing to Hera. She frowned.

"The trooper questioning me said that the Jedi had been declared traitors for attempting to assassinate Emperor Palpatine."

"Grand Chanc-" _Emperor_ Palpatine? Was it really possible that there had been some sort of coup of the Grand Republic? And…the clone army had betrayed them? He stared out the window again, entirely forgetting that he had been having a conversation at all. Gray and Styles, betraying the Republic? Although they'd betrayed Master Billaba and himself handily enough.

"None of this makes any sense," he muttered under his breath at a large tree-rodent that was able to have a prolonged stare back at them as the transport bounced past. It volunteered no opinion on the problem. No-one could, could they? Canan still felt that at some point the previous evening, he'd closed his eyes and opened them to a completely different galaxy. None of the old rules applied. The only thing he could be sure of was that nothing and no-one was safe on this planet. And maybe even further too.

He clung to the idea of Coruscant. There were other doubts and fears that crept even around that thought, but the Temple was calling them back. _Home_. If anywhere in the galaxy was still safe, it was the Temple where they'd been raised. Where the Jedi were.

He had to find them a way home.

* * *

 _Shoe's dropping now, although it's the shoe he's half-feared all along and is really not wanting to accept. By the way, his interest in Sabine is a red herring insofar as any potential Sabine/Kanan goes. He'd have to be blind not to notice her (too soon?), but he's a lot more focussed on staying alive!_

 _Just on his name, as I tend to switch POVs a lot and need ways to clarify who's head we're in._ _Canan added a random syllable to the start of his own name, so to him, he called himself Canan. The rest, of course, heard "Kanan". So when it's from his point of view, it's Canan and from someone else's it's Kanan. When it's "Canen", it's because I apparently can't spell._

 _It's not that I'm terminally indecisive :D_

 _In the same vein_

 _::broadcast - comm broadcast from perspective of hearing it over the device_

::broadcast - _comm broadcast from the perspective of the speaker or someone with them_

* * *

 _Thank you for the reviews, it's nice to know people are enjoying it!_

 _ruby throne - Perhaps the only time Zeb will get away with criticising Hera's driving! But all in a the good cause of helping Kanan pretend they don't know what he is :D_

 _Dragocken - Thank you, I'm glad to know that. It's always nice to get writing critique and feedback on whether the story's still flowing right and making sense :D I can at least guarantee that this story will be completed!_

 _kobamaru - Haha, thanks! Hope it won't disappoint! :D Well, he did go and accost the stormtroopers, which could definitely be classed as being a complete idiot. He's going to have to learn quickly to control the Jedi instinct to intervene._


	8. Chapter 8: Master Jhesa

**Chapter 8: Master Jhesa**

 _Northern road to Plateau City, Kaller_

* * *

"Kanan? Hey, Kanan?" Canan started at a light poke to his leg, and looked over at Ezra, realising now that his new name had been called a few times.

"Sorry, I was…" He made a vague gesture out the window to indicate he'd not been particularly on this planet for the last few minutes.

"Hera's asking if there's any other way into the city. None of us want to get caught up in another catch-and-release."

 _Hey, as long as they do the releasing bit_ , thought Canan. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to talk his way out of another interview like that, especially without the distraction of a shouting match a couple of feet away. He considered the question though, as it very much suited his purposes too.

"There's a few entrances from different directions. Those crossroads in the villages make up a ring road around the city with the main roads like spokes from a wheel." He "drew" it in the air to make his point.

"If they're focussing on Jedi, their main focus will be the west side of the city. The army was camped back in the forests. There'll be another village on a closer ring. Those are the obvious places to post troopers, although they still seem to be setting up. If you turn onto that road, you can loop the city and approach from the other side. They'll notice a speeder more than the walkers though." Apart from his description of the battle earlier, it was about as much as they'd heard him say at one time. Hera did notice that he was unconsciously thinking tactically in a way that didn't really suit his assumed persona, but on the other hand, he'd have to be mad to skip any opportunity to keep them away from the clone troopers. And she was on board with that.

"I'm not overly attached to the speeder," replied Hera. "It was going to have to be left at the spaceport anyway. Although it would be a pity to abandon it too far out." She frowned as she noticed a speeder - a one-man bike - that had gone off the road to her right, its tailfin sticking up from the ditch.

"They will have troops stationed at all the main entrances and exits by the time we loop around to the other side," Canan admitted. He gave the back of Sabine's head a considering frown. Ezra, watching him, got the feeling he was trying to decide on something. Canan caught his eye on him and looked over, before returning his worried gaze out the window. Something caught his eye and Ezra saw the other boy's back tense up, sitting forward as he focussed on something in the thick grass lining the ridge on the left-hand side of road. He couldn't see whatever Kanan had from here, but he did see the side of the other boy's face take on a greenish tinge again under the pink. The road was empty, and instinct made him speak up before he entirely decided what was the matter.

"Hera, can we pull over a moment?" He met Hera's eyes in the rearview and flicked them to Kanan, who did indeed look like he was about to throw up. Hera swung the transport in against the verge and Kanan pushed past the three to scramble out, swiftly followed by Ezra and Sabine. Hera glanced along the road in the rearview, unsure what had prompted the sudden stop, but as she did, Mira came around to her side and she opened the door, offering the plainly distressed child her lap. Mira scrambled up into the driver's seat onto the offered lap, dragging her tablecloth with her. She didn't say anything, but curled up against Hera, the small body shivering. Hera exchanged a troubled glance with Zeb.

"I don't think it's active trouble," he murmured back, looking back to where Kanan had darted back along the road to the grass, Ezra and Sabine following more cautiously.

* * *

Canan knew he shouldn't be doing this. He had seen the glint of crystal in the grasses and had acted without thinking. And now he was drawn to it as if it was calling him. His hand touched the lightsaber hilt and he drew it out of the tuft where it had caught, keeping his body between it and the pair behind him. He stared at it for a moment, taking in what this meant. There was – or had been - a Jedi close by.

Ezra couldn't see what Kanan had found, and he was keeping his back firmly to them, but Sabine nudged him and nodded to a patch on the road that was blackened in round bursts. Blaster fire. Ezra's face paled, and as Kanan straightened up, his attention was caught again by a sudden movement of his arm. Something flashed in the air before it vanished into the thick undergrowth in the hedges.

"What was that?" asked Sabine with a frown, moving up to stand beside Kanan. He didn't look at her.

"Something that wasn't safe where it was," he said abruptly, before sliding down into the ditch, using handfuls of thick grass for support. He still knew he shouldn't do this. If he hadn't been blatantly obvious before now, he knew what he was searching for would do it. But there was a Jedi nearby. Maybe one of the other generals, or a padawan from one of the more distant units. There weren't many on this planet, but there were a few. And they had crossed into another sector long since. If there was the remotest chance that a Jedi was still alive down here, Canan was going to find them. He was faster than the other two, Sabine in particular delayed by her long robes, which seemed to do their best to catch on everything, and had vanished into the thickets at the bottom by the time Ezra had gotten around her and landed in the thick grass at the bottom of the ditch. He looked intently at the undergrowth. Kanan's pale tunic and brown trousers were surprisingly good disguise down here. He could hear movement though, and darted into the hedge after it.

It was actually the small noise that caught his attention rather than seeing him, a low moan of despair. Ezra shoved his way through the thicket, a long bramble snatching at his hair and yanking a few out. He pushed forward and nearly fell out of the hedge on the other side, where Kanan was kneeling beside a body in brown Jedi robes. It had apparently tumbled, or being thrown, from the road above. Although no stranger to dead bodies, Ezra had to swallow his rising stomach as the faint smell of burned flesh assailed his nose. He approached cautiously, catching a glimpse of the man's face, dark eyes staring at the sky. Kanan wasn't reacting at all to his approach and Ezra wasn't entirely sure if he'd even noticed him yet. He hesitated, unsure what to say or do. The man was lying on his back, and although he seemed relatively undamaged, the smell of scorching was stronger here. Kanan's expression was completely blank, and before Ezra could decide what to do or say, he'd steeled himself and reached out to turn the man over.

Ezra started back and nearly fell into the hedge again, swallowing hard a couple more times. The Jedi had been shot in the back, enough times that his robes were burned tatters, the skin underneath blackened and gouged, congealed blood gripping debris from the ditch and sealing it to his flesh. If either of them had had the remotest doubt that he was dead (which neither did), the back of his shattered skull was enough to dispel any remaining hope.

 _Now what?,_ thought Canan as he looked up through a crushing haze of despair and met Ezra's horrified blue eyes. _You've given yourself away for nothing, Master Jhesa's long dead. Like nearly every other Jedi on this planet_. He'd fought their corner to here, but he had nothing now. He was out of ideas and out of hope. The troopers were going to catch them, either at a checkpoint or in the city and they'd have no hesitation about doing this to them too.

Ezra glanced back for Sabine, but she was still stuck in the hedges. A bit taller than either of the boys, and with her native robes, she was having as little luck as Zeb or Hera would have had with the thick growth. He looked back, meeting the expression of hunted terror in the fugitive's eyes.

"I saw the descriptions," he said finally. "You're Caleb, aren't you? It's okay. We're no friends of the ..Empire. We're not going to harm either of you."

"Why not?" asked Kanan bluntly, his eyes narrowing in frustration. "Everyone else seems to want the Jedi dead. Including this _kriffing_ Empire that's apparently sprung up from nowhere!"

"We don't. You think Hera would let…that happen to a pair of kids?" He nodded to the body. Kanan looked away again. He'd thought Gray and Styles wouldn't let something like that happen to a pair of kids either. Look how wrong that was.

"Yeah, well, you can say that but…" He cut himself off, rubbing his face tiredly. "If you want to help me, don't say what we found. I was travelsick, okay?"

"You can trust them," Ezra tried to convince him, but he could see the hostility in the boy's eyes.

"Trust them? Yesterday, my own unit murdered my master, their leader, and tried to kill me. Like that." He nodded sharply towards the body on the ground. " _My unit_ would have done that to Ma-Mira. She's, what, about seven years old? Nothing they accuse the Jedi of could make a kid of seven deserve that. I trusted our troops _,_ my _friends_ with my life. So did my Master. And _that's_ what they did to her." He looked off, his chin setting as a wave of frustration, anger and horror threatened to overwhelm him. Also, Ezra probably meant well. Maybe. "If you want to help us, don't tell anyone," he ground out under the pressure in his throat and chest.

Ezra grimaced, but slowly nodded. Kanan didn't even want to trust him, but his hand had been forced. If the others showed any signs of knowing what had happened, he'd probably blame Ezra for it and whatever slight trust had built up would be gone. He glanced at the body on the ground, wondering if Kanan knew him. And he really wished he had the adult Jedi, his own master, with them right now. He'd know what to do. But his adult Jedi master, the one who understood all this, was currently in front of him as a fourteen year old boy who knew even less about what was going on than the rest of them, and currently didn't trust anyone bar perhaps Mira. And he looked like he was about to lose it.

"Alright. You felt sick," he agreed reluctantly. "But you can trust Hera," he couldn't resist adding. Kanan didn't answer, looking back to the body for a moment before making a quick gesture over it. Then he rose and made for the hedge without looking back at either the dead Jedi or Ezra. Ezra lingered a moment, not liking leaving the man lying out in the ditch, but there was nothing he could do. As Kanan had already realised, he thought with a mental sigh. He turned and followed him.

Kanan pushed by Sabine blindly and headed back up the ditch. She raised her eyebrow questioningly as a white-faced Ezra followed. He gave her a look.

"He felt sick," he lied, knowing that Sabine would see right through it, but not daring to say anything else with Kanan in earshot. She raised her other eyebrow at that, but glanced after the other boy and nodded once, picking up that something had happened that Ezra couldn't talk about right now.

* * *

Canan headed back to the transport, his mind whirling again. Zeb was standing at the side of the transport, leaning against the door enjoying the warmth from the sun-heated metal. He raised an eyebrow as Canan approached.

"You okay, kid?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just got a bit travel sick," he muttered, his eyes skimming from Zeb's to peer into the transport. Mira was safely on Hera's lap.

"Let's stop a bit," suggested Sabine, who had come up behind them and was looking intently at the back of Kanan's head with a thoughtful expression. "Could do with a rest and something to eat. Don't suppose you got anything at the market, Hera?"

"Actually, I did," she replied. "Good idea. At least the suns are starting to dip again. Come on, Mira." She gently ushered the child out and Mira reluctantly slithered back out of the transport to land lightly on the ground, moving around it to reattach herself to Canan's leg. He dropped a hand to her shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. He didn't really want to stop, but at the same time, he wasn't sure if it mattered. With the strangers' help, they'd made it far further than he could have hoped to have gotten by now on a planet with relatively few methods of transport bar legs. The dragnet was widening, and it would encompass the city, but for the length of time it took for them to eat, well, either they'd be there waiting for them or they wouldn't by now. As the group moved onto the grass, he steered Mira to the point in the circle furthest from both the road and the thicket where the Jedi lay. Mira still clutched her grimy tablecloth and he slung it over her like a cloak to keep the sun off. Sabine tossed him her wrap.

"Let's not get you sunburned worse," she said with a friendly smile. He took it with a nod of thanks, wrapping it around himself with the deep hood up shading his face.

Hera kneeled in the circle as she sorted through a small canvas bag. "It's not much, mostly some sort of bread and …unidentified greens and cheese. Anything bad in here, Kanan?" She passed him over the bag and he took a look inside.

"No, ordinary summer salad food. The leaves are mostly kriss and dirin-root. Safe to eat. We have some meiloorun fruits too. Oh, uh, watch out for the cheese, especially the orange one with the rind. The Kallerans are very proud of their spiced cheeses. That one's fire-cheese."

"No prizes for guessing why then," agreed Hera, looking at it as she took the bag back and laid it on the ground in the circle with the bread balanced on top. She took off a couple of slices with her knife and offered them to Sabine, who had more difficulty getting to her implements under her tent. Sabine nodded thanks and separated out greens and cheese for it. Despite the warning, she took some of the fire-cheese, intrigued. The two fugitives drew (admittedly rather warm and bruised) meiloorun fruits from various pouches and added them to the lunch pile.

"Hey, did you just find these?" asked Ezra. He looked frustrated. "Every planet grows these things, apart from Lothal. What did Lothal ever do to them?"

"They were growing near one of the villages," acknowledged Kanan, taking a bite of bread, greens and fire-cheese. Mira was avoiding the cheese, but was contently munching on bread and dirin-root. He watched Sabine out of the corner of his eye as she took a mouthful of hers. _Three…two…_

"Hey, this is pretty good," mumbled Sabine as she swallowed. _One…_ Her face started to flush pink. Canan could also feel the hot burn from the cheese, but he was used to it after six months on Kaller and actually rather enjoyed it.

"My mouf's on fyer!" She clapped a hand over her mouth as her tongue burned, eyes watering and face as pink as her hair tips. Mira giggled into her bread and offered her a fruit.

"Meiloorun will help," she said confidently. Sabine took it blindly and bit into it, alternating between dry bread and fruit until her mouth felt less like someone had poured hot metal into it.

"People eat this for _fun_?" she asked, giving Kanan an exasperated look. He was placidly munching a fire-cheese sandwich to no apparent ill-effect. He swallowed.

"Tastes nice. Trick is not to let it touch the tip of your tongue. Or the edges. Doesn't burn so much at the back of your mouth." He took another bite and Sabine narrowed her eyes at him. He wasn't even pink – well, not more so than his sunburn. She was sweating in her armour.

Actually, even if it had been burning a lot worse than it was, Canan was realising that he hadn't really eaten since yesterday and he'd had several very active days to fuel. He'd gone from not being hungry at all to being suddenly starving. He kept eating his sandwich slowly. Rations were low with six of them and the slower he ate, the more full he'd be from it. He glanced down at Mira, who was contentedly sucking the juice from a meiloorun fruit.

Most of the Spectres avoided the fire-cheese after Sabine's experience, although Zeb took a slice and thoughtfully ate it whole without bread. All of them, down to Mira, openly watched him. He chewed it thoroughly, staring back at them and then swallowed. Canan was impressed. The few troopers he'd seen be tricked into doing that (including by their own bravado at times) had ended up either choking, retching or occasionally attempting to drown themselves in an attempt to relieve the scorching sensation.

"Do you have a tongue?" asked Mira wonderingly. Zeb produced it and she laughed. "Is it made of metal or something? I've never seen someone eat fire-cheese like that."

"Nope. I just like spices." He took another slice.

"I can't eat it at all," the small Twi'lek confided. "It makes my nose burn." Hera decided to take this as warning and stuck carefully to the paler and less interesting-looking cheeses. Ezra was staying quiet, still chilled by the find in the bushes, and ate slowly. He watched Kanan as the other boy ate. He seemed remarkably calm, the flash of animal terror that Ezra knew he'd seen back in the hedges subsumed and hidden again. He met his eyes a moment and glanced away first, unable to read anything in them. That was one thing when it was adult Kanan, but it was somehow more disturbing in the teenager.

Sabine had more or less recovered herself and had gone back to eyeballing the back of Kanan's head, where the shaggy brown hair touched his shoulders.

"Strikes me," she began, crossing her legs under her, "that there's two of us that are attracting attention. Me, because they apparently don't know the difference between pink and red hair and Kanan, because brown is brown." Canan flicked a glance back at her, his defences raising again as a dangerous subject was broached. He stayed silent though, chewing his mouthful of bread and cheese.

Hera glanced over to Sabine, raising an eyebrow questioningly. "Can you do something about it?" she asked, feeling it unlikely the young Mandalorian would have raised it if she couldn't.

"Always. Although not very permanently. I didn't exactly have time to pack. But I have black."

"Might be the best choice," said Ezra thoughtfully, speaking up for the first time. "Least if you two look more like me, there's a better chance of us being accepted as a group."

Sabine flicked back her pale white-pink hair and wrinkled her nose. "One colour is so boring. But yeah. Kanan?"

Canan swallowed his mouthful, catching up. "You want to dye our hair?" he confirmed. At her nod, he tilted his head and then nodded back. "Sure. Could do with not being grabbed again because my hair is _brown_. Like half the rest of the Humans in the galaxy."

"Actually, I think it's the green eyes that are really attracting notice," she admitted. "But can't do much about that. Your hair is easier to work with."

Canan nodded again, accepting the point. He was fine with looking as little like his description as possible.

"It's going to wash out," she said, finishing her sandwich and straightening up to rustle through her robes. "It's only a temporary one. But at least it won't dye your skin black too." She found what she was looking for in a pouch on her belt, under the robes, and had to make some awkward movements to get it out. It appeared to be a small, flat tin of pressed powder. She looked around.

"Anyone got water?" she asked. "I mean, I could use meiloorun juice if I had to, but it'd attract every insect for klicks." The rest of the group looked at each other. Canan was hesitant. He had a water pouch, but it had his unit insignia on it. He was about to risk it when Mira got up and darted back to the van, returning with a little brown water pouch. Canan recognised it immediately as coming from the Temple, but he hoped that would pass the rest unnoticed.

Sabine found a chunk of bark that would act as a bowl of sorts and poured some of the powder onto it, mixing it with drops of water. Canan eyed over his shoulder as she went around behind him, but sat patiently as he felt either her fingers or a comb detangling the mess.

* * *

Ezra lay on his back in the grass. He wasn't asleep, or even particularly dozing, but he was okay with being taken for it at the moment. He was shaken, which was relatively unusual. A few months ago, he'd been a street kid on Lothal. Life wasn't great, but it had its moments. And while stormtroopers were often looking for him, he'd have to have really overstepped it to be shot on sight. As the son of two dissidents, he would be a target, he supposed, but he'd long ago separated the street kid from the Bridgers' son. But then the _Ghost_ crew had shown up and Kanan had told him he could be a Jedi.

He wasn't sure he'd understood this part as well as he should have. He knew about it, in sketchy outline, but seeing it was chilling in his sudden understanding of the hatred for…well, people like him. And these were the people that continued to hunt them. Was that what they'd do if they caught them? The sudden images of the stormtroopers surrounding Kanan or himself and executing them with that cold surety (and frankly scary levels of overkill) made him flick his eyes open again. He glanced sideways, noting Sabine was still blackening teenager-Kanan's hair and then closed them again in case one looked around. He thought he saw Kanan start to glance over but he wasn't going to check.

There was an anger under the horror though. Anger and disgust as well as fear at the savage strength of the Empire as it made a devastating blow against enemies that didn't know it existed. He was used by now to the callousness of the Empire's army, and its willingness to use extreme and overwhelming force as a first option. But even from stormtroopers, Ezra was more used to a clinical, official nastiness. This hunt, and what the stormtroopers had been instantly willing and ready to do in the market field, was vindictively thorough. It was savage in a way that shook him even if he didn't fully understand why. While he didn't share the illusions of the adults on the Ghost that adults were supposed to protect kids and so didn't fully share that element of disgust with them, he was very aware of the sheer power imbalance. Like most teenagers, he had a keenly honed sense of unfairness and the importance Ezra attached to it was increased by the fight the small _Ghost_ crew brought against the might of the Empire.

 _This is bad even by their standards,_ he thought, shifting a leg out of the reach of the shifting sunlight. _They're brutal, but it's a sorta…_ do this, come here, you will be executed at dawn _inefficient official evil. But even the stormtroopers aren't usually this…trigger-happy. They were way too ready to shoot that woman until Kanan got involved. I didn't really get why he stressed not letting the lightsaber be seen - like that isn't always a concern - but, yeah, I get it now._

He also suspected that Kanan's hesitation before offering it to him had been related as well. But he needed it to have a hope at protecting the Spectres from the Inquisitor. Ezra really wished that the adult Kanan was with them. He really wasn't sure he was ready to be team Jedi in a situation like this.

 _Kanan thinks you can be if you have to be though. Else he wouldn't have given me the lightsaber. If he wasn't sure enough for it to outweigh the risks._

It was a comforting thought. But only slightly.

* * *

It took longer than Sabine had anticipated. Damp, straight hair was far easier to deal with than the dry tangled rag-rug that Kanan was apparently carrying about. Still, the liquid was helping to tease out the tangles, and while it took a good half-hour, she sat back at the end, pleased with the effect. By now, the other four had stretched out on the grass to doze, taking advantage of the short respite to rest.

Canan cautiously drew out a damp strand that hung limply over his finger, gleaming blue-black in the sunlight. Huh. He glanced around behind him to where Sabine was sitting back and carefully combing the dye through the pink ends of her own hair, leaving the white as it was.

"You just carry hair dye around?" he asked curiously. She shrugged.

"I carry paint around," she corrected him. "Never know when it will come in useful. Try not to get caught in the rain though, or you'll have black streaks all over you. And brown hair again."

He nodded, watching the skilful fingers cover up every trace of pink. "Guess you do this a lot?" he asked again, turning as he felt the side of his head exposed to the sun was already nearly dry and the other needed doing.

"Never liked keeping it the same all the time," she replied. She was getting through her own hair a lot more quickly, and already one side was black and white, while the other still had pink tips. She regarded him thoughtfully. "You do look different with black hair," she allowed. "Could maybe pass as Ezra's brother. At least to the clones."

"I'm pretty okay not attracting the army's attention," he agreed. "At least while they're as trigger-happy as they are at the moment."

Sabine sat back, glancing at the sleeping members of the group as she worked on the second side. Canan finished his meiloorun fruit. "Have you heard anything else about this Empire?" he asked. The more he thought about it, the more that was becoming an overriding concern. _Emperor Palpatine? The Grand Chancellor Palpatine is Emperor and suddenly the Jedi are attacked. How many Jedi were out in the field, like us, when this happened? Did all the clone troops turn?_ And he didn't even dare ask her about the thoughts running through his mind. He didn't dare risk showing he knew – or cared - too much about who was ruling the galaxy.

Sabine hesitated, trying to figure out what she should know. The Empire had only been declared that morning – or maybe last night, she wasn't quite sure of the timing. They were in the wilds as much as he was. Knowing too much was going to make him suspicious again.

"I heard some troopers talking, they were saying the Jedi were accused of trying to kill the Grand Chancellor. Someone gave an order 66 and the clone troops…turned on them. And Palpatine's Emperor."

 _There has..actually been a coup on the Grand Republic_ , he thought, dazed as his worst fears were confirmed. _By its own Grand Chancellor. Only reason he would need to is to get rid of everything that makes the Republic safe and installing a totalitarian regime. For which he'd need to get rid of the Republic's protectors, the Jedi._ _And he has the apparent enthusiastic support of the military in doing it._

Kanan was still silent by the time Sabine had finished the other side of her head and wiped her hands on the grass.

"Kanan?" she tried. "I should wake the others up, we better get moving." She tried not to grimace as she gave him warning, but she wasn't quite sure how to break his apparent paralysis. She'd figured he was working some of this out himself, and he was going to get confronted with it in the city, but she felt bad that she'd hit him with the news. As a Mandalorian, she fully appreciated the utter betrayal. But better he had some time to process it in relative safety.

Canan blinked a few times as his reality widened to encompass Sabine and the others present. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, we should." The wary blankness descended over his expression again as he gathered a few discarded scraps to chuck into the hedge, automatically covering over their traces. As Sabine woke the rest, he took a moment to look back at the undergrowth behind which Master Jhesa lay. He wanted to have at least left his lightsaber with him or done something to give him some dignity. But leaving it risked it being found and used, either by a civilian who could end up in the dragnet or by…someone else. He turned back before someone started calling him and drew attention, returning to the group.

"Nice job, Sabine," said Hera, placing her hands on her hips and regarding the pair of them admiringly. She glanced between Ezra and Kanan a few times. They could arguably be brothers. And while Sabine's hair was certainly striking, it was very unlikely to be confused with any Jedi now.

"Maybe you should take a turn in the front, Kanan," said Hera. "There's a shade on that side, and the back can't be doing your stomach any good."

Canan considered that he'd been having bouts of nausea all day, and now he'd actually eaten something and also it got very hot in the transport versus fear of being seen. The shade and his hair swung his confidence and he nodded.

"Thanks, might be best," he said with a quick, but sincere smile. As they climbed back into the transport, he mulled that he was actually starting to trust them. They had been unfailingly kind to them and he knew they had to have recognized his description. Sabine wasn't worried about her own hair, she'd helped him to cover his and used her own as an excuse. They were working with his story. If they were going off-planet, maybe they could go with them. He pulled down the shade entirely, shrugging the hood of the wrap he still had around him over his eyes and glanced back at Ezra, wondering if maybe his insistence had been futile. _If they're helping us despite knowing what we are, at least the entire galaxy isn't against us._ It wasn't a great deal of comfort, but it would have to do.

* * *

As they set off, Hera was also thinking. Ezra had lead off the Inquisitor a good way, but ultimately, he was going to the city. And he would still end up following much the same route as they were; it just depended on how much of a head start they'd gotten. She was almost certain it wasn't that much. The speeder outstripped walking, but firstly, not by much and secondly, she highly doubted that the Inquisitor was going to tamely stroll to Plateau City. He was on a schedule too - she doubted he wouldn't try to carry out his primary mission even if starting from the Outer Rim. She wanted to get them to the city and see Kanan on a ship out of there, and they'd have to deal with the Jedi-hunter on the ground. Or alternatively…what? Explain that the Empire had something after him and they'd help him deal with it? How much damage had they caused already in response to the Inquisitor's hunt?

She felt Kanan watching her now in the rearview and wondered what he was thinking. Except when he was being particularly inscrutable, she could usually read Kanan well, same as he could her. They had lived together in a small ship for nearly a decade after all. And although his face had changed, his eyes hadn't. But _this_ Kanan she was having trouble reading at all. And she suspected it wasn't entirely intentional; he just wasn't daring to react to anything that was happening. The empathetic Twi'lek wanted to reach out to him, but she didn't dare either.

"You should get some sleep if you can, Kanan," she said after a few moments. "There's still some distance to go." _And currently you're safe and I don't know when that will be true again_. He didn't answer, but when she glanced over again, it seemed he had taken her advice and was at the least dozing under the hood, from how he'd for once fully relaxed against something. Until now, there had been a hint of fight-or-flight about him, twanging tension under the mostly calm exterior he was putting up. She glanced back into the back of the van and noticed that most of them were asleep, Mira curled up against Zeb, who was dozing against the window. Sabine was fast off. Ezra was the only one awake, troubled eyes meeting hers for a moment. She tilted her head questioningly. Ezra looked down, unable to explain something that he couldn't just nod towards. He looked back up and shrugged the next time he saw her eyes flick to the mirror, mouthing "Later". She nodded, seeing him go back to staring out the window, either pensive or just lost in thought.

Hera returned her faint frown to the road again as they hit the last stretch between the small settlement closest to the city and the north gate in the walls that stood over the flat plain. She had a distinct feeling that they'd had it relatively smooth so far, the marketplace aside. Things were only going to get more difficult from here.

* * *

 _AN: Some denial going on there with Canan although he is cottoning on to things. But for the bits he really doesn't want to accept, he's having to be a bit hit in the face with it - the Empire's existence and the Republic fallen being one and how much he's fooling the "refugees" with his story, especially after they've seen his description!_

 _Reading back, there's various spelling/pov mistakes and continuity errors that are annoying me, so I might do a bit of editing and reuploading of previous chapters. I hope this doesn't cause email pings for anyone following. I'm not quite sure how it acts._

* * *

 _Thanks for the reviews!_

 _IthilwenofIthilien - Not too long this time! The other Jedi being killed or other survivor? One of those will be answered soon anyway :D_

 _ruby throne - Hehe, they are starting to get some consequences to their actions/interferences. At least they managed to head off one as well - that they disrupted the timeline by taking Kanan and Mira to the market field was mitigated by their stealing Captain Grey's transport and delaying his getting to the market with the holocrons that would have entirely kriffed them! I think everything else they've set in motion is still running though and they're about to get a major consequence._

 ** _TBC: Chapter 9: Declaration of a New Order_**


	9. Chapter 9: Declaration of a New Order

**Chapter 9 – Declaration of a New Order**

 _Plateau City, Kallar_

* * *

.

* * *

"Captain, thank you for your quick response." The clone captain saluted his fellow stormtroopers as he welcomed the small squad to Kaller.

The newly promoted Captain Aleksandr Kallus returned the salute. "We were in the area, Captain. It is in the interest of the Empire to ensure the loose ends are tied up as swiftly as possible." His tone was courteous, but the captain felt a certain disregard for the clone trooper. He understood the practicality of the idea of the clone army, but at the same time it was limiting. Also, the sea of identical faces was disorientating until one got used to it.

"It is down to that then?" asked the clone captain, leading the captain and his sergeant Ren Kybus along one of the corridors towards the briefing room.

"More or less. The Jedi traitors were taken entirely unawares. Presumably they didn't realise their plot had already been foiled. Out of their thousands there are only a few hundred Jedi as yet unaccounted for across the galaxy. Most were cut down efficiently."

The clone captain didn't respond to it, but he felt the jab at the competence of of the Kaller units. Instead he showed them into the briefing room and offered them seats with a nod. As they sat, he examined the man he was speaking to. Young enough. Captain Kallus looked about mid-twenties, a light-skinned Human male, blond with light brown eyes and a pugnaciously square chin that was still apparent under his thin beard. The sergeant looked about the same age, a dark-haired man who mostly kept quiet, although appeared easy under his professional manner with the captain.

"Of the Jedi that were stationed on Kaller, all but three were accounted for, General Billaba's padawan Caleb Dume, General Jhesa's padawan Ginia Tix, both human, and a Twi'lek child, a Jedi youngling, who came to the planet with a Jedi master two days ago. All three of the masters are confirmed dead." He activated the holoimages and the two teenagers stood frozen in a moment.

"There are conflicting reports about a group that may be helping at least one of the padawans; Dume. The group appears to be headed by a female Twi'lek and the party has a Lasat too."

Kallus nodded, studying the images. It was why his unit had been diverted to Kaller, rather than continuing on. Three escapees was bad enough, but potential sympathisers was dangerous.

"We have reason to believe that at least the Twi'lek's group are heading for the city. Communication's difficult on this world though, Captain. It's a backward planet even by Rim standards."

Kallus nodded again, having memorised the faces, and looked up. "Understood, Captain. Can you give me an idea of the lie of the land?"

The clone captain rolled out a map across the table. "Plateau City," he indicated with his finger. "General Jhesa and his padawan were stationed in the city. The General was outside the gates at the time and was killed here, heading towards the north gate." He touched the northern road. "His padawan was within the city, but escaped. She may try to reach here –" An outpost on the outer ring to the north. "That's where he was yesterday evening. We have troopers stationed there."

Kallus examined the map. He saw the city was on a wide plain, a large jut of land into the ocean that dropped off into the sea. The western reaches were thickly forested and mountainous, although the forest turned to swamp further south. The city itself sat high, but the routes to it were exposed. The clone captain's gloved finger tapped the map some distance south-west of the city, in the forest.

"General Billaba's troops defeated the Separatists here yesterday. She was killed at the camp. Her padawan escaped into the forest, along with the Twi'lek child." He drew his finger along to a small village on the north-west sector of the city's approach.

"This is Dirin Va. We've received word from a checkpoint there today. Ginia Tix was reported found, but it turned out to be a false alarm. A brown-haired teenaged human boy got himself involved. He claimed to be with the group I mentioned earlier. The Twi'lek also has a small daughter. It's enough that we want to be alert for them. The guards are being notified as we speak."

Kallus nodded once again. "My men will assist the search, Captain. Even if they get to the city, there are few enough places they can hide for long. And all of them stand out on this world." While he took the assignment seriously and was also well-aware of how dangerous Jedi were, two stray padawans and a youngling wasn't exactly a threat. If it was Depa Billaba or Tirs Jhesa who were roaming loose, his team would be several times the size and he'd be several times as wary.

* * *

.

The city was close now, near enough that Hera could see the damaged city gates up ahead. She glanced at Kanan and decided to leave him be. He appeared to be deeply asleep by now which given he probably hadn't slept since yesterday was not surprising. Anyway, after species, the most immediately identifiable things about him were his hair and eyes. They'd dealt with the hair, but his being asleep was the best cover for the other problem. Still, she hoped they weren't stopped. As they came into sight of the gates, she saw that hope was vain. Even though they were approaching from the north now, the gates were manned by clone troopers, and they were checking new arrivals. In the rearview, Hera saw Ezra nudge Zeb awake, but he too quickly came to the same conclusion and made a warning gesture for Ezra not to wake the small Twi'lek. Sabine blinked awake as they slowed to join the queue.

Hera watched as the troopers passed walkers and the occasional transport with waves after cursory checks inside. Their list of targets was short. She hoped that their apparent communication difficulties continued. _I wish I could ask him how he talked his way out of that, but.._. _If any group is easily described on this planet, it's us. I really don't want them paying us attention._

* * *

.

Now it was their turn. Hera decided to take swift control of the situation and see how far she would be allowed go.

Canan heard trooper voices, but for a long moment it didn't worry him. He had woken every morning to the sounds of the same voices and he'd long since learned how to tune out that particular timbre when he was half-asleep and didn't particularly need to be awake. He heard conversation without particularly processing it.

"-travelling with?"

"My daughter and my crew." Crew? That was an odd word. His half-awake mind took a side-wander through their space travels, to Mygeeto and…Kaller. His brain started rapidly catching up, although his body stayed relaxed for now as he listened more closely. Clone troopers. Since yesterday, that was a bad thing, not a normal one.

"Don't wake Kanan, please. He's badly sunburned and is inclined to get sick. And Mira's tired." _That's your cue to stay asleep_ , he thought. _When all else fails, play dead_. How he was going to stay relaxed if they tried to wake him, he didn't know.

"We need to search your hoverbus, ma'am." He heard the side-door opening, the speeder rocking as people got out. That big rock had to have been Zeb.

"None of them match the description, Captain." At least his newly dark hair – he suddenly realised he was wearing the hood to protect his eyes. They were certainly going to pull it down and he had to not react to it. He very subtly changed his breathing pattern, focussing on relaxing, finding his connection to the Force. If anything could keep him grounded, give him something to shield him from the world outside, it was that. It was odd to meditate in this position, rather than kneeling, clear of distraction. But his master had taught him the benefits of being able to meditate despite distractions. Canan felt his mind retreat from the relative unimportance of outside and focus on the Force moving through and around him and every other thing that made up the galaxy.

"He's one of yours, ma'am? He needs to be woken up and passed." The Captain was regarding the hooded figure in the front seat dubiously. The overwhelming likelihood was that she was telling the truth and he also didn't want to get vomited on. On the other hand, he really couldn't just take her word for it.

"He's Ezra's brother and looks much like him," she said with a touch of impatience. She'd pull down his hood if she didn't reckon that would wake him instantly. The Captain nodded to one of the troopers on the other side, and before Hera could object, he'd pulled the door Canan was leaning on open.

Canan had a moment's warning as he sensed the movements around him. He had a split second to decide how to deal with it, and chose passiveness. He could control his fall to some extent and worst case, he'd get a crack from the ground and it would hurt. Worst case of "waking up" was being shot. As the door opened, he slid naturally and limply out of the transport. Something pulled at his wrap and then his head hit armour, which was far better than hitting the road.

Hera had expected a startled awakening and the potential of panic. She didn't expect him to be unconscious, and lunged after him to grab at his wrap and prevent a fall. The trooper was rather alarmed as a limp teenager fell out of the transport and practically into his arms. He gave the Captain a blank-helmed look that still managed to broadcast his confusion. The hood had slipped down though, and this kid's hair was as black as the boy's in the back. They did have a passing similarity. Although this one looked like he'd been baked in an oven.

"It's not him, sir. But you should get this kid to a medcenter, ma'am. It's not natural to sleep like that." CC-1796 carefully got the kid upright in the seat again. Hera looked worried too, but her eyes narrowed a crack as she looked at him. Was he… meditating? She took the trooper's comment and ran with it though, snapping at him and then fussing over her victim worriedly.

"Was that really necessary? He could have been injured! Can we go? I need to get him help. Where is the nearest medcenter?" She looked at the captain , gesturing over her shoulder for the other Spectres to get back in the bus. Mira, remarkably, hadn't woken up at all, and Zeb was carrying her to ensure things stayed that way. Asleep was the safest state for both the kids at the moment. Sabine and Ezra were trying not to laugh at Hera doing mother bird very successfully in the face of the wrong-footed troopers.

"Down the main road into the centre and it's on the first right." The Captain wasn't a bad man and given these were clearly not the escaped criminals, he was quite willing to help a traveller with her sick young crewmate. Her crew was remarkably young, actually, apart from the huge Lasat male that eyed him continuously. Hera started the engine and they moved back. Hera crept slowly ahead through the people milling around the gate. Much like the ones on the road outside, no-one gave a damn about vehicles on the road. Speeders could wait their turn.

Once inside the city, Ezra shifted in his seat to be able to see Kanan's face properly. A grin flashed over his lips for a moment and as Sabine and Zeb glanced over questioningly he laid his hands palm-down just above his knees and closed his eyes. Sabine caught on first as he opened them again, and Zeb, who did after all share a cabin with him, was right behind her.

Something told Canan that it was safe again to return from his communication with the Force although he couldn't easily get back to dozing. He let himself wake up fully, but stayed leaning against the seat. He was greeted by the sight of Plateau City. The suns were lower now, casting a more golden glow and longer shadows, but it didn't do much to hide the damaged buildings or the pock-marked road.

"And this is a nice part," he commented, looking at the buildings to his right.

"Hey, it lives," teased Sabine from the back.

"You worried a clone trooper back there. He thought you were unconscious," said Hera. She was amused at the trick. A lot of younger Kanan's seat-of-his-pants plans and actions so far had reminded her of her friend. He'd (mostly) refined his methods since, but given all of the circumstances, including that they had the huge advantage of knowing his secret and what was actually going on already, he was doing well for a kid who had just had the galaxy turned upside down on him. He was quick to adjust to sudden danger, even if she wasn't sure what he understood of the bigger picture yet.

"I was tired, I guess. Is Mira okay?" He looked back over his shoulder to see her still fast asleep.

"She's fine, she's been asleep for the last couple of hours. You woke up just in time, we're going to have to pull over soon, I think."

"Yeah, the center is all walkways unless you have something that will get off the ground. Not that too many people do outside the rich sector. South had shields, so it fared a lot better."

"Usually the way," muttered Hera, unsurprised to hear that the wealthy portions of the city had been protected in a way that the poorer or common areas were not.

 _Not far now_ , thought Canan as the hoverbus creaked more happily along the main road. _An hour more and just maybe I can get us off this planet_. He glanced over at Hera from under his hood. _Maybe even with friends, at least as far as another planet. A planet where they're not specifically hunting us_. While he knew there would be troopers in the city and they were still in the middle of danger, things were finally starting to look up.

"And here's the end of the road, it seems." The ominous words were not as ominous as they sounded; the road was blocked off ahead and diverted into a park where various other larger vehicles were parked. A sign lit up a number of vehicle silhouettes crossed off with the exception of a simple one-man speeder. Canan frowned.

"I thought they'd re-opened at least _to_ the centre to speeders," he said quietly. "This usually means that something specific is going on and the roads need to be closed off." No, this was ominous, at least to a boy keyed up for warning signals.

"Is it far to the spaceport?" Hera asked as she pulled into a parking place, taking note of the advice.

"Maybe an hour's walk if the main transports aren't running. It's where the west side meets the southern sector, but south gate access's restricted even when main transport's not out. Wealthy side. Gets its own special controls and no refugees."

Hera rolled her eyes to herself. Of course there was one. Wasn't it always one rule for the rich and another for the poor? Who cared if poorer people had more difficulty reaching the transport hub.

They got out of the transport, Mira coming around to join Canan again. He considered sending her to Hera, just to be on the safe side, but decided if they were sticking together as a group, she was as safe with either of them. And she was his responsibility anyway. Sabine smoothed her robes down as she got out, ensuring that no traces of her armour were visible. While the robes were deeply annoying to move around in, she was rather coming around to the ochre and dull red combination and unless she had to abandon them, she was taking these home to do something with the cloth. Actually, she thought, looking at Hera's back as they headed out of the speeder lot, the colours would suit her very well. She mulled what she could do with the cloth to make something for Hera. Maybe a shirt or overshirt? Or she might make something for Ezra. Hey, it was his birthday today, wasn't it? She turned her plottings onto the younger boy, eyeing him critically from behind. He happened to glance around to see her measuring look and gave her a rather startled glance, as she looked like she was considering what spices to use on him for dinner. Sabine, who had no idea of looking cannibalistic, gave him a cheerful beam. Zeb, who had lived with Sabine longer than Ezra, interpreted all of the looks far more accurately than Ezra and rolled his eyes.

"Hey, pay attention to the road, artist," he prodded Sabine, who coughed and stopped eyeing up Ezra like a piece of meat. Canan, as an observer to about half of this, gave Mira a faintly confused look and then decided it wasn't important. He looked around, feeling the tension grow in his stomach again. Was this the last obstacle to getting off this planet? Or had they walked straight into a trap? He kept close to the group as they left the parking lot, murmuring directions to Hera as they walked as he didn't want to be even visibly the one leading the way.

The road was clear at this point, and showed no real signs of damage. There were other people moving along it, and signs advertised businesses, although it was clear they weren't in the real centre yet, plenty of closed buildings or residential buildings between them. The group kept close together, and while they were given a few measuring glances, their blasters were visible and no group with a Lasat in it was going to be picked on if there was weaker prey in the offing. And practically anything else was. So the group went unmolested as they moved down the street towards the city centre, those that could keeping their hoods up against both the glare of the late afternoon suns and too much attention.

Given the choice, Canan would prefer to avoid the centre as much as possible. That was where clone troopers were likely to be. But due to the layout of the city, plus the damage done to this sector, he needed to detour at least in as far as the second ring before heading out the south road towards the spaceport. He could tell they were getting unnervingly close to the center by the increasing pressure of people in the warm evening. He kept a hold of Mira's hand as Kalleran, Basic, Huttese and a few snippets of other languages swirled past them, listening intently for the distinctive sound of clone voices. The turn-off they needed was close, and then they'd be moving away from the likely heavily-policed sector.

"What's going on ahead?" asked Ezra, squinting at where a large crowd were pressing up near a raised screen. A Torguta woman that Canan recognised as the usual Holonews speaker was talking, although they couldn't hear what she was saying from here.

"Just the news," he replied, but his eyes stayed focussed on it. While he had the pressing urge to keep going and get away from here, surely if anything was going to give answers, it was this. "We have to cut around that corner anyway, so I'd like to hear what she's saying."

Hera glanced up at the big screen. She vaguely remembered the holonet public broadcasts. She'd been used to them growing up, but they had died out with the Republic. It didn't do for Imperial citizens to know too much about what was going on in the galaxy. At least not the bad things. Ezra, having grown up under the Empire, was rather fascinated at the idea.

"Like, the government tells people what's going on and they believe it?" he asked rather doubtfully. Canan gave him an odd look.

"Well, not the government exactly, but newscasters. They're usually pretty good. If they lied, people would stop listening." _Well, that was true under the Republic, and I can't say there was_ **never** _spin on that, especially about the war. But now? Whatever is going on now..?_

Ezra mulled at least one gaping flaw in this theory, but at Hera's glance he subsided. Best not to show anything that went against what was normal here and now. The norms of the day was that the "news" was trustworthy. _Suckers_ , he thought with a frown, eyeing the crowd ahead as they joined it at the back. The amplified voice was just about reaching them.

"…As announced earlier, Emperor Palpatine has made a Declaration of a New Order, speaking in a closed session of the Senate earlier today." The newscaster's expression was completely blank. "Imperial citizens, stand by for broadcast of the Emperor's speech." The recording cut a moment. Canan felt his stomach rebel again and he held his breath. He felt a hand on his shoulder, but was too focussed on the screen to pay too much attention, his nerves stretched to breaking point as he waited for the next broadcast.

The image brightened again, showing the Imperial Senate and Grand Chancellor Palpatine's chair was occupied by a man in a long robe, the deep hood shadowing his face. He rose and the camera showed a mid-range shot, which was enough to get a clearer image of the Emperor. Canan gasped aloud. He knew what the Grand Chancellor looked like. His Master had met him. This... twisted face, grey and scarred, was barely recognisable. The crowd was murmuring as well, as those still trying to figure out what was going on were reacting similarly to Canan. The man was speaking and the young padawan strained to hear.

 _* **"Citizens of the civilized galaxy, on this day we mark a transition. For a thousand years, the Republic stood as the crowning achievement of civilized beings. But there were those who would set us against one another, and we took arms to defend our way of life against the Separatists. In doing so, we never suspected that the greatest threat came from within."**_

Hera felt a chill come over her as she listened to the speech. She knew it, although she had never seen it broadcast in full. She had occasionally wondered how other planets had reacted to it. But standing in the middle of it all, seeing the expressions flickering over the faces of ordinary civilians as they considered what this meant for them personally – she glanced down at the young Jedi in their charge. His eyes were fixed on the screen, the light from the images reflected on his face. He was focusing intently on Palpatine. She took a quick breath, remembering what came next and squeezed his shoulder comfortingly.

 **" _The Jedi, and some within our own Senate, had conspired to create the shadow of Separatism using one of their own as the enemy's leader. They had hoped to grind the Republic into ruin. But the hatred in their hearts could not be hidden forever. At last, there came a day when our enemies showed their true natures."_**

The murmur rose again, which at least had the effect of covering a soft splutter from beside her. "That's _bantha_ -shit," he mumbled in horrified disgust. Hera glanced around, but no-one seemed to have paid attention.

 **" _The Jedi hoped to unleash their destructive power against the Republic by assassinating the head of government and usurping control of the clone army. But the aims of the would-be tyrants were valiantly opposed by those without elitist, dangerous powers. Our loyal clone troopers contained the insurrection within the Jedi Temple and quelled uprisings on a thousand worlds._**

 ** _The remaining Jedi will be hunted down and defeated. Any collaborators will suffer the same fate. These have been trying times, but we have passed the test."_**

Canan stayed dead silent at that, hardly able to believe his ears or trust what he was listening to. He picked up Maarje, who clung tightly to him, her own face directed towards the screen too as they were declared outlaws and fair game to the galaxy. The order to the clones had come from the Grand Chancellor himself. _The Temple_. What did he mean by that? Surely…his mind retreated from the horror of the thought. _The Temple_ can't _fall. The beacon was active. -Quelled uprisings on a thousand worlds. Including Kaller. Everywhere. They're gone_. _This happened to everyone in the field._ He felt like throwing up for the nth time today at the words "loyal clone army". How could they have supported this? How could they have just helped overthrow the Republic like this? How could Gray and Styles, his friends, have done this, not just to him and his Master, but to the Republic?

Hera glanced down as she heard murmured words that she doubted the white-faced boy knew he was saying aloud. _How could you, Gray?_ She remembered the name from the chaos back in the army camp and her heart went out to the kid. She squeezed his shoulder again, partly in comfort, partly in warning to be wary of what he said.

Ezra was also listening intently. This was part of his own story as well. This was why he'd grown up with no Jedi master to teach him as a child, why the mere existence of his Force connection made him a target. He had seen excerpts of this speech before, but never before had their full intent and purpose been made clear to the young Lothal streetkid. Only very recently had he realised it was even a valid concern to his own life. Without really intending it, he moved forward to stand with Kanan and Hera, unconsciously seeking their fellowship. Kanan was understanding all this at the same gut level that Ezra was now feeling and Hera… well, Hera just _understood_. He felt her other hand rest on his shoulder too.

 ** _"The attempt on my life has left me scarred and deformed, but I assure you my resolve has never been stronger. The war is over. The Separatists have been defeated, and the Jedi rebellion has been foiled. We stand on the threshold of a new beginning._**

 ** _In order to ensure the security and continuing stability, the Republic will be reorganized into the first Galactic Empire, for a safe and secure society, which I assure you will last for 10,000 years. An Empire that will be continue to be ruled by this august body and a sovereign ruler chosen for life. An Empire ruled by the majority, ruled by a new Constitution._**

 ** _By bringing the entire galaxy under one law, one language, and the enlightened guidance of one individual, the corruption that plagued the Republic in its later years will never take root. Regional governors will eliminate the bureaucracy that allowed the Separatist movement to grow unchecked. A strong and growing military will ensure the rule of law."_**

And there it was. Canan finally felt tears burning at his eyes as he heard the coup declared successful. The Republic was gone. Now it was the Empire. An Empire that he knew instinctively was of the worst sort of totalitarian control. A military Empire under an Emperor for life. His worst fears were realised in their most terrible form. Everything that the Republic stood for, everything that _**he**_ stood for, that he had served, was gone. The Republic was buried under lies and the protectors of the galaxy accused and destroyed. He suspected that there were Jedi that knew about this, that had known what Palpatine was doing, perhaps had tried to stop it. And so they all had to die. He fixed his burning gaze on the twisted face, unnoticing of the tears that were escaping silently, hearing the creeping venom under the man's words. How had he never heard it before? If only Master Billaba were here. She'd know what to do. But she was dead, back in the forest somewhere. There was only him and the youngling. The padawan and the Jedi youngling clung to each other as their world was ripped apart at the seams, paying little heed to the existence of anything but the Emperor.

 **" _Under the Empire's New Order, our most cherished beliefs will be safeguarded. We will defend our ideals by force of arms. We will give no ground to our enemies and we will stand together against attacks from with or without. Let the enemies of the Empire take heed: Those who challenge Imperial resolve will be crushed._**

 ** _We have taken on a task that will be difficult, but the people of the Empire are ready for the challenge. Because of our efforts, the galaxy has traded war for peace and anarchy for stability. Billions of beings now look forward to a secure future. The Empire will grow as more planets feel the call, from the Rim to the wilds of unknown space."_**

Oh, that had gotten attention. Zeb glanced around as he heard the low murmur swell to angry mutters. He didn't understand a word of Kalleran, but he knew anger when he heard it. Canan did understand enough of the language to get the intent of the dull growl and he spoke softly to Hera and Ezra as the ones nearest.

"They're angry," he said in a voice that sounded distant and odd even to him. "This was a free world. They feared this from the Republic troops. But w-this wouldn't have happened under the Republic." Even now, he managed to cover the deadly pronoun, but it had been close. An expansionist totalitarian regime. Of kriffing course it was. _An army for war, not for peace. See what you've done, Grey, Styles?,_ he thought with sudden fury. _This is what you've helped bring about, this is what you've become!_ _You betrayed_ **everything** _we stood for! And I don't know_ **why** _!_ Ezra glanced over, unable to see his face under the hood, but he could feel the fury radiating from the other boy, the arm holding Mira shaking just enough to be noticeable. Mira let out a distressed sound and Canan dipped his head to murmur to her, before placing her down, but keeping his arms over her shoulders. He didn't quite trust his own hold right now, while he reacted to the impact of the news. Would the rasping venomous words never stop?

 **" _Imperial citizens must do their part. Join our grand star fleet. Become the eyes of the Empire by reporting suspected insurrectionists. Travel to the corners of the galaxy to spread the principles of the New Order to barbarians. Build monuments and technical wonders that will speak of our glory for generations to come."_**

 _Like I did_ , thought Sabine, her stomach roiling at it. She regretted her actions, she had regretted creating the deadly weapon against her own people since she had understood the depths of betrayal it was. No matter how long she lived, it was likely to be her single greatest mistake, the defining point of her life to her people's history. But until the moment when she had seen the Empire declared, she had never fully realised how she had unwittingly betrayed the galaxy too. She sniffed hard and rubbed a hand over her eyes and nose to choke down her own reaction. Sabine didn't cry. Ever. Not in public anyway. She felt Zeb's presence beside her as the big Lasat shifted closer, perhaps due to the crowd's pressure, perhaps not. It was a comforting presence anyway.

 **" _The clone troopers,_ proudly _wearing the name of Imperial Stormtroopers, have tackled the dangerous work of fighting our enemies on the front lines. Many have died in their devotion to the Empire. Imperial citizens would do well to remember their example._**

 ** _The New Order of peace has triumphed over the shadowy secrecy of shameful magicians. The direction of our course is clear. I will lead the Empire to glories beyond imagination._**

 ** _We have been tested, but we have emerged stronger. We move forward as one people - the Imperial citizens of the first Galactic Empire. We will prevail. Ten thousand years of peace begins today."_**

The further insults to the Jedi Order rolled over Canan and away, their import lost under the waves of sickening betrayal. He felt light-headed and dizzy and dropped to a knee beside Mira to hug the kid. She burrowed her face against his neck and he let his chin rest on her shoulder as he tried to recover himself and comfort her, wondering how much of this she actually understood.

 _And now they're stormtroopers_ , thought Hera with a mental sigh. She tore her eyes from the screen, realising her own face was wet too as it flicked back to the newscaster who started into a brief summary of the day's news again. She looked over the angry, confused crowd, and then back to Zeb. They knew what this really meant. They knew what had been created in the horrors of the previous night. Birthed in blood, the Empire would straddle the galaxy, crushing the will of all the planets under it. They knew as none of the people around them yet understood what this announcement really was. Zeb's met her look and although they were still dry, she saw emotion in the yellow eyes too as the set-up for the extinction of his people was laid out. She closed her eyes a moment and looked down at Kanan, who had dropped to hug Mira. Both of them were shaking, although Kanan glanced up again after a moment, rubbing at his face through the hood.

"We should go," he said in a low voice. "The crowd's getting restless. The clone troop- _stormtroopers_ will be here soon." Despite speaking quietly to cover the crack in his voice, the frustrated loathing in his tone as he corrected himself to the new word was audible to all of the Specters. But given all of them shared it, no-one was going to pass comment. Hera took a breath and squeezed his shoulder briefly again before drawing it back as the boy stood up.

Hera heard a soft growl from behind. Ezra had tensed where he stood, and even as Zeb's sound attracted her attention she realised that this wasn't just Ezra's reaction to the speech. She looked down, meeting wide blue eyes and saw him rub his arms as if cold. There was no chill in the air, so that meant… She glanced up. There, across the crowd, a tall figure was watching Zeb. The space around him was clear; even in the press around the screen, instinctively people were avoiding pushing against the Inquisitor. How had he gotten to them so fast? Argh, she'd known that he wouldn't just peacefully walk there! Hera backed them out of the crowd as it milled, the voices getting steadily angrier. The one positive was that the Inquisitor was right at the other side and surrounded by people (even with his little space). Why did they have to be so _kriffing_ distinctive on this planet…

* * *

"You, Lasat!" Canan froze and grabbed Mira's arm. All the clone troopers sounded the same. But he knew this one. He'd just never thought that Captain Styles' voice could rouse such fear and loathing. Hera felt Mira's hand pull from hers as the clo- stormtrooper at the edge of the crowd beckoned the group. She didn't dare look around as Kanan slipped back into the throng with her. Zeb showed his teeth in a contemptuous sneer, but there were five or six stormtroopers waiting for them, blasters ready, although not (yet) pointing towards them. The stormtrooper opened his helm as the soldiers surrounded the small group emerging from the crowd. Sabine's eyes narrowed a moment as they ran over the scar on his cheek. She knew this one, and her fingers twitched. _Still remember you, scarface. Still going to get you if you're still around when I'm seventeen rather than two_.

"Is there a problem, sir?" asked Hera with all the customary politeness of a civilian talking to blasters. She wasn't absolutely sure of their sigils currently, as they seemed to have a bit of a mix of Republic and early Imperial designs, the latter hastily applied over the more permanent Republic marks.

"Perhaps, ma'am. Your group was seen at the village of Dirin-va, at an Imperial checkpoint. There was a disturbance during the search for Jedi infiltrators. Your group is quite distinctive, yet there are discrepancies about those with you that need to be cleared up." He looked over the small group ahead of him and drew out a holorecorder, flicking it on. The image of a teenage boy in Jedi robes flashed up, frozen in a moment. Even with black hair, the jig was up if Kanan was seen now.

"A brown-haired boy intervened in an arrest. He claimed to be part of your group. Yet at the city walls, you had two black-haired teenage boys. I can see one of them, where's the other? And your daughter? Think very hard before answering the question, ma'am, and tell me if you recognise this Jedi."

Well. This wasn't good at all. Sabine lurked in against Zeb again, wondering if her now black-tipped hair was going to call notice to the concept of dye. Perhaps it hadn't been the best idea to change her own. Hera cursed inwardly and then opened her eyes widely, turning on her best Twi'lek charm. She used it cynically when she had to. The whole interest that other races had in Twi'lek women was insulting for the most part, especially when one took into account how they were then treated. But she'd absolutely use offworlder susceptibility to her race and gender when she had to.

"I remember the disturbance and the boy involved looked a bit like that I suppose, but there's a mistake. Both my boys were there, but neither of them was the one that intervened. I don't know what happened to him. He was talking to a cl- stormtrooper as we were released."

"Our records show differently, ma'am," said the Captain courteously, but firmly. "We need to talk to your other teenager. Once he's passed, there will be no further problems for you."

Hera folded her arms. "We've been stopped multiple times on the road so far, Captain. I really don't know what's going on and appreciate there's an emergency, but we are just travellers. My boy is sick and my daughter is resting. After being scared numerous times on the road by troopers who apparently nearly murdered an innocent pregnant civilian!" Yep, time for a hint of angry Twi'lek mama. _And rightly so_ , she considered. _This whole situation must be incredibly awkward for innocent people on the road who had no idea that the galaxy has been reorganised between going to sleep last night and waking up this morning_. She allowed parental aggravation to show clearly in her face. It was probably a better cover than anything else.

Canan watched from the crowd, keeping a tight hold on Mira as she was surrounded by legs. Hera was talking to Captain Styles and Canan's wary gaze stayed on the man when people didn't mill in front of him. He could hear enough to know that this could end up going badly for the group. He could also hear enough to know that his time with them was ended. They were distinctive and now being watched. He couldn't rejoin them, for his and Mira's sake or theirs. But they were almost certainly going to be hauled off for more questioning and would have grave difficulty explaining his absence or that of Hera's "daughter". He looked down at Mira and then at Zeb's large back as the crowd shifted. Maybe there was at least one thing he could do to thank them for their kindness before he and Mira vanished and let them go back to their own lives.

"Is your so-n at the medical center?" asked the Captain, hovering over the word as the subtle influence of Hera's repeated reference to "her boys" ran into the undeniable difference in their races.

Blast it all. They were going to check, which meant that they were going to be looking for them again pretty soon. And they continued to be beautifully unique on this planet…

"Yes, and not to be disturbed right now. Kanan is quite ill. At least let him recover before you go questioning him."

"I'm sorry, but that's not an option, ma'am. Come with us, please. Once we have seen him, you'll be issued cards that you can show at further checkpoints. There will be no more trouble."

With five blasters around them and in shouting range of a lot more blasters, the Spectres had little choice, all of them starting to get keyed up towards what was almost certainly going to end up as violence once they were out of sight of re-inforcements. Hera hoped Kanan and Mira could slip out unnoticed, and glanced back to see if she could see the Inquisitor but he was gone. Horrible timing. They were going to have to deal with this little lot quickly and round the kids up again before the Inquisitor realised they were separate and vulnerable.

* * *

.

Mira hadn't been overly happy at being popped into a dumpster with a whispered promise of returning in a few minutes. She sat cautiously in one corner of it, wrinkling her nose at the pungent smell and watching something liquid leaking from a disposed bag to a hole in the metal base, hearing the occasional drip onto the alleyway below. She hooked her arms around her drawn-up knees. She was confident that Caleb would be back for her soon. Or at least he had the best intentions of it. She missed Hera. She missed being called "lia'ry". More than anything, she missed _home_. Even classes in intergalactic history. Which even at seven, she was conscious they were currently living through. The small girl would give a lot to be back in even the most boring, dry, dull class rather than living it in all its interesting and terrifying technicolour.

Canan crouched on a roof, cautiously making his way to where he could see over the crowd while keeping behind a ventilation stack to protect him from the eyes below. There were the troopers – and they were leading the little group away. Much of the crowd was still watching the holoscreen as the recording of the Emperor's speech started once more and the mood was getting ugly down there, even with the stormtroopers' quelling presence. He narrowed his eyes as Palpatine spoke, fingering Styles' blaster. It wasn't a weapon he preferred, unsurprisingly, but he could use one. Regardless of whether they were civilised or not, there were occasions when lightsabers just weren't the best option. Like now.

 _For the Republic_ , he thought and aimed at the holoimage. _Force guide me_.

Two shots whined overhead as the stormtroopers lead the Specters away, both striking through the holoimage of Emperor Palpatine's face as he spoke. Before the crowd could react, or the stormtroopers figure out where the shots were coming from, a third had struck the holoprojector. There was a loud crack and shouts of panic and anger as the image vanished, leaving two round blackened pocks on the wall behind marking where Palpatine's eyes had been. His last words died in the air, the words proclaiming the Empire's spread over the entire galaxy. Captain Styles turned sharply, clapping his helm back on as the crowd's noise level abruptly rose threateningly.

Canan didn't wait to see the reaction. He could hear the panicked sounds of the crowd swell to active movement some people scattered, afraid they were under attack. Others, angry and rebellious at the news that their independent planet was now part of some Empire (as had been warned about by those that were as wary of the Republic forces as they were of the Separatists) reacted to the shock violently. As the stormtroopers tried to regain control, confusion reigned, some people thinking the troops were firing on them, others instinctively fearful of Separatist attack. Canan slithered off the roof and back to the alleyway where he'd left Mira, hoping that the yells and blaster fire he heard behind wouldn't get innocent civilians killed as the stormtroopers sought to control what was rapidly becoming a riot. Mira was already pushing the lid of the dumpster up, and he snatched her out of it and quickly swung her onto his back. The alleyway would be safe for approximately twenty seconds until the troopers figured out just where those shots had come from. He darted down the alleyway, the child bundling her tablecloth around them as he lost them into the maze of the damaged old residential zone, where even the Republican army still only had nominal control.

* * *

The Specters instinctively ducked as blaster fire broke out, Zeb the first to realise where it was coming from. He couldn't resist a wide grin (which could be argued as a growl anyway) as someone put two lovely shots through the Emperor's eyes and then took out the holoprojector. _If that was you, kid, beautifully done,_ he thought. _Now get the hells out of here before they grab you_.

Captain Styles suddenly had all hell breaking loose on his hands. He turned his blank helm on the offworlder civilians.

"Stay here," he ordered, expecting it to be obeyed. People were crashing into and through the little group as the stormtroopers tried to regain calm, spreading out to create a barrier against the surge, slow it to a more controlled trickle before someone got trampled. It was having little effect. Ezra, smaller than the rest, found himself lifted off his feet by the wave and yanked away from the group. He yelped in surprise, struggling to free himself as he was pushed against the stormtrooper captain.

More blaster fire, this time over the crowd. But there was too much anger to be quelled by air-fire and instead the mass heaved in panic and broke over the stormtrooper line. Hera grabbed for Sabine and Zeb, looking around frantically for Ezra. But to hell with _that_ order. Even her role as a Twi'lek civilian wouldn't be sticking around for this. She gripped Zeb's shirt and Sabine's arm as the big Lasat hunkered down and strode with the crowd, ducking them into the first alleyway he could work them towards. As the crowd milled past he suddenly stuck an arm out, more or less accidentally clotheslining a trooper and grabbed for a black-haired boy's arm, yanking him towards them. Ezra collided with him and scrambled to safety, out of the stampeding crowd. He was bruised and shaken, but safe enough.

"I lost the Inquisitor," he panted. "I don't feel him anymore."

"We have to get out of here – and then find Kanan and Mira," said Hera grimly. "The Inquisitor will have gone after them."

"They know we're being watched now," said Sabine in frustration. "I wouldn't come find us again now if I was him. Are we just going to end up leading the stormtroopers right to them?" Hera bit her lip.

"Sabine and Ezra, find them. You two will attract far less attention than Zeb and I. Call us when you see them. I'd say they've fled into the ruined area, away from people. We're going to loop around to the spaceport. That'll be Kanan's ultimate goal." _And it's about the only place that Zeb just might not be remarkable_. The two nodded with a glance to each other and then darted off. Kanan knew this city better than either of them and once he got a good head start, they'd have little more clue than the stormtroopers as to where they were.

* * *

.

Deep in one of the abandoned and part-ruined residential districts in the western quarter, a tall figure in dark robes wound through the streets, patiently tracking the two children from the scene of the holoprojector riot, until he came to a damaged house. While the front seemed solid, a hole in the wall that faced into an alleyway could - and had - allowed two young Jedi access.

The Inquisitor watched the house, prowling outside as he considered the situation. He knew he wasn't getting off this planet tonight. There were also several Jedi roaming loose around the city. He had time to hunt before he continued on his primary mission. _And the Bridger boy, before I depart_ , he thought. He had to grudgingly acknowledge that the boy had turned the tables neatly on him. So he'd do him the honour of recognising a potential threat and tie up the loose end before he continued on to find Obi-Wan Kenobi and prevent his meddling with the beacon summoning the remaining Jedi to their doom. He glanced suddenly down the street as something attracted his attention. Something, given his failure with this pair so far, that was more interesting.

Dume had gone to earth with the Jedi youngling, but there was an efficient way of dealing with them while he pursued the other target he had been tormenting with rather more success. She was nearby too, and, more so than these two, knew he was following her. He smiled thinly and continued after his current prey.

* * *

 _*Full text of the speech taken from Darth Joshy's post threads/the-full-text-of-palpatines-glorious-speech.22660006/ as it is surprisingly difficult to find it anywhere official (his source is_ _ **Star Wars Insider**_ _). Thanks for uploading it, Darth Joshy. May the (dark) side of the Force be with you. :P_

 _Well, there's their consequence for being noticeable and the Dirin Va market incident, Agent-to-be Kallus' team has been diverted to search for them. On the other hand, they have the Inquisitor to worry about again. Or not-be-aware-of in the case of the two Jedi kids. Fortunately, they are_ currently _not as interesting to him after Ezra's stunt._

 _ruby throne - Ezra got a bit hit in the face what the Empire means for Jedi - and he's still pretty new to this. Kanan is rather bouncing from crisis to crisis and having trouble processing a lot of it!_

 _IthilwenofIthilien - Thanks :D I'm glad you're enjoying, I've enjoyed writing this. As for the Spectres, well, he's separated from them now; they were such a recognisable group that it wasn't going to be tenable forever. They're not giving up yet though!_

 ** _tbc Chapter 10: Hunted._**


	10. Chapter 10: Hunted

**Chapter 10. Hunted**

 _Plateau City, first day of the Galactic Empire_

* * *

Canan collapsed against an upstairs bedroom wall of the derelict house they were holed up in. He preferred the height and being able to see trouble coming although they had to avoid gaping holes in the floor. It was also cold, a chill in the air despite the warm summer evening outside. He glanced up to where sunlight was streaming in the window. Even though it was as bright and "cheerful" as it was going to get in here, he felt a lowering sense of threat from the city outside. Mira leaned against him silently and he put his arm around the kid's shoulders. He hoped his distraction had allowed the group to escape. He also hoped that people hadn't been injured. He had to dismiss both thoughts though, as his mind jumped to the next problem now that all hope of getting off-planet with the travellers had been quashed.

He was pretty sure it was an off-day today so far as the spaceport went. He remembered that it had factored into Master Jhesa's plans for continuing their journey. Which meant that the first flights out would be in the morning. And the cl-stormtroopers would be all over it with their holoimages. So he needed to get them out quickly. So he needed to sort something out tonight. And he didn't dare bring the little Twi'lek with him now that they'd lost Hera's cover. He sighed. He didn't really dare leave her alone either, but he couldn't split himself in two. And he'd need to have her in the open as little as possible tomorrow.

"Mira, I'm going to have to go out again for a bit," he said quietly. She looked up at him, but didn't otherwise react, tired and having lost too many people today to argue. "I need to go to the spaceport and try get us passage for the morning. We can't be out more than necessary tomorrow and I don't have credits to buy a flight normally."

She nodded reluctantly and pulled her tablecloth around herself. "Come back soon?" she asked in a small voice as he got up. He looked down to her. "I'll try, but I don't know how long it's going to take to bargain a passage." _And if this doesn't work, I'm coming back here for the kid and I'm going to steal one if that's what it takes to get us out of here_. She nodded. Canan hesitated a moment longer.

"I will come back for you, Mira, I promise. And I'll be as quick as I can."

"May the Force be with you," she said, pulling up her knees and wrapping her arms around them. He nodded and closed the door behind him, pulling his hood up again before slipping back down the stairs and out through the gaping hole in the ground floor wall into the deserted alley. It already felt warmer than it had inside and he felt a pang of concern about whether he was doing the right thing. There's no other option, he thought with frustration, slipping from the alley to the empty street. He headed south, hoping he could navigate the maze accurately. A street kid was overall less suspicious than "kid travelling away from an army camp" at least.

* * *

.

::"Spectre 5, I see Kanan. He's heading for the spaceport, south." said Ezra quietly into his comm. He was crouched on a roof where he had a decent view of the ruined and damaged streets in several directions. His roof was of an occupied house, part of the edge of this particular wound to the city. From here he'd just caught sight of the brown wrap heading in the direction of the spaceport. Hera'd been right about where they'd hide.

Sabine looked up and pushed away from her wall, moving to the corner. She could see him now, and as Ezra leaped overhead she let Kanan get around the corner before following.

::" _Kid's not with him?"_ Zeb asked.

::"No, not sure where he came from. He must – have left her in one of the houses. It's pretty abandoned around here." Ezra took a jump mid-sentence before continuing. He liked residential districts for this, especially the winding ones. They weren't much challenge, but they were good for being able to take a direct line in a hurry.

 _::"The spaceport's closed. Hey, Spectre 2_?" Zeb's voice faded as if looking away from his comm.

::" _The Inquisitor's ahead of him, he's here_." Hera's voice this time, quiet and controlled. _::"Five and Six, we need you here. We'll try lure him to the scrapyard on the west side of the spaceport."_

::"We're on our way". Sabine looked up and then drew out her knife and swiftly shredded her robes at the front to free up her legs. She climbed up the side of the building to join Ezra and they took a short-cut towards the spaceport.

* * *

.

The Inquisitor walked patiently down the road to the transport hub. He kept his hood up and face down, but also exuded an air that made people not want to get too close or pay him conspicuous attention. He could feel his prey was close, her fear a pin-prick of chaos in the flow of the Force. He turned off the road to the spaceport and moved towards the chainlink fence cordoning off the approach to the scrapyard.

Hera, who was in the scrapyard with Zeb watching the walker, was mulling over how best to attract the Inquisitor, (preferably without having to use Ezra's dangerous Jedi lure which seemed to attract everything at the moment), saw her problem solved. While this was helpful in one way, it also meant that they weren't prepared for phase two with the others so far away. They both backed off from the admin buildings, pulling back into the scrapyard to give themselves time.

::"Five and Six, Inquisitor's coming into the scrapyard. Need you here quickly."

::" _You…could have waited for us!_ " Sabine, sounding a bit out of breath.

::" _I_ was, this was his idea." Hera dropped the conversation as she and Zeb broke apart, heading in different directions. She darted up a permanent-standing crane standing idly over a pile of junk for disposal, reminded of a similar moment on Gorse in several years time which she really hoped would still end up happening. Zeb strolled out into plain view and stood waiting for the Inquisitor with his usual studied nonchalance, although his eyes were a lot more wary than usual.

The Inquisitor strolled around the corner and looked at the Lasat in his path.

"Oh, really?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Are you protecting every stray Jedi in the galaxy now?"

Zeb blinked slowly, not quite sure what to make of that. "No, just this one," he replied. He wasn't sure whether the Inquisitor knew about the Twi'lek kid or not, but he wasn't going to risk it.

The Inquisitor rolled his eyes. "Oh, very well. So your friend is up on the crane to knock junk on me while you distract me with your impractical blaster stick, is that the plan?"

"I'll show you impractical," growled Zeb, activating his bo-rifle, which crackled into life. He aimed at the Inquisitor but then pulled off and fired at the exposed underbelly of a long-retired shuttle near the Force-user. As he did so, blaster fire rained down from above, forcing the Inquisitor to turn away from whatever Zeb had loosed beside him to deal with the fire behind. The bolt pierced the rusting fuel tank and blew out. It was large enough to scorch the Inquisitor's robes as he deflected bolts back at Hera, and dodged Zeb's second blast. But the bigger problem was rapidly descending from above as the disturbed junk heap tumbled down to engulf him. Zeb regarded the heap where the Inquisitor had just been, keeping his bo-rifle activated.

"By the way, you got the plan the wrong way 'round," he said with satisfied malice.

As Hera started to descend, a red flash sliced through a speeder, and both parts fell away. The Inquisitor, waist deep in junk, true, but very much alive, glared at Zeb.

"You are starting to irritate me," he observed, slashing through the junk around his legs. Zeb backed up a couple of paces.

" _Frell!_ That didn't happen last time," he muttered, firing off another two blasts in quick succession. The first the Inquisitor managed to deflect, the second hit the junk, but didn't cause enough disturbance to trap him again. Zeb eyed sideways for anything else he could blow up.

Hera scrambled back into the cab and activated the crane. She wasn't entirely sure yet what purpose it might serve, but better to have it already active than not for when she did figure it out. She fired down on the Inquisitor again as he advanced on Zeb. In the distance, she could see two figures running in their direction. She took a few more shots on the Inquisitor, ducking behind struts as he fired them back and relieving pressure on Zeb. She could see he was luring the Inquisitor under another heap. She leaned into the cab and starting working the arm control.

Zeb could see the ponderous swing of the crane coming in, sweeping debris off the top of the pile and raining junk down around them. Hera had aimed away from Zeb, but a crane wasn't exactly a precision weapon. Both he and the Inquisitor had to dodge, he less so enough that he was able to get a couple of shots on the Force-user, one of which scorched his robes.

 _"Karabast,_ winged him," he muttered. The Inquisitor deflected a large iron oil tank at him and he had to leap aside, his return fire going wide. Hera leaned out of the cab, her shot skimming the Inquisitor's hand before he nearly placed her second blast back into her face. She ducked back in, having run out of convenient piles to knock. She brought the arm around again, opening its clasper this time as she dropped its claw and taking moments to keep fire on the figure below.

A lightsaber thrummed into life behind him as Ezra and Sabine pelted up behind Zeb, Ezra moving to the front with the lightsaber at the ready.

"'Bout time you showed up," Zeb greeted them.

"We weren't exactly in the neighbourhood," Sabine pointed out, raising her blaster and waiting for a shot to open on the Inquisitor that he wouldn't just throw back. Sustained fire from behind and above, Hera forcing him to turn and deal with her shots rather than just dodge them. He did with alarming rapidity, forcing her to duck down into the cab. Sabine and Zeb took their shots in the moment she had bought them. He turned with impossible speed, dodging Zeb's bolt entirely, and whipping both of Sabine's blasts back towards the trio.

Ezra had never felt that confident with this. He'd get impatient or slip, and as soon as he missed one, everything hit him. So blaster bolts, and on full power, wasn't something he would consider himself ready for. But he had Kanan's lightsaber, Kanan wasn't here, and he _would_ protect his friends. He knew as the Inquisitor's blade met the blasts where they'd go (one aimed at Sabine and the other at Zeb) and the blue blade was already in position. Both shots rebounded in quick succession. One expended itself harmlessly against the remains of a rusted droid, the other skimmed the Inquisitor's robes, to the surprise of everyone present.

"I was going to ignore your existence Padawan's padawan, as you're _hardly_ a Jedi. But given you have proven some small challenge – granted, not in fighting ability - I will do you the courtesy of including you in the small group of Jedi to be cleansed from this planet. Your friends I can take or leave. Their existence makes no mark on the galaxy."

A moment's precognition, height, falling. He leaped back and rolled free as Hera's dropped shuttle smashed into where he had just been standing. He snarled and leaped again, landing atop it. He stayed in a crouch with his saber lit and gave the group on the ground a nasty smile.

"I wonder if the stormtroopers followed my little hint as to where the other ones are," he mused aloud. As Zeb fired at the silhouette, he leaped away. Hera was able to get a few more shots on him as he darted between the piles, but he was swiftly gone. The rest of them had lost him by the time they'd gotten around the shuttle.

"Frell…" growled Zeb lowly. "Do you two know where they're hiding out?"

"Somewhere in the western ruins. Ezra saw him coming out of there, but not where he came from?" Sabine glanced at Ezra, who had lowered the lightsaber by now and nodded.

"I ca-" Speeders approaching. And an air patrol. They had not been subtle in here. It was definitely time to go. They gave up on planning for the moment and dashed for shelter, wending through the junk to the woods at the edge until they could loop back to the road. They couldn't take the roofs at the moment, searchlights were flashing over every so often and the eaves were some shelter until they could get somewhere either out of range or where their presence would no longer be suspicious. Ezra and Sabine tried to remember the layout of the streets they had passed over at speed, but the route back was far more laborious.

It was dusk before they reached the bombed out district.

* * *

.

Canan, meanwhile, had been inside the spaceport for five minutes and the place was now on lockdown. While his first reaction was panic, he was swiftly alerted to that the lockdown didn't appear to be an internal security issue, but rather something going on in the neighbouring scrapyard. Although there were no flights in or out today, the spaceport was still the commercial hub of the planet and it was busy and semi-accessible. Deliveries were being made, cargo ships were being loaded up. While no lockdown was a good thing, he had to reason that if they were looking for trouble out _there_ , they weren't looking for him in _here_ and his logic was supported by that the stormtroopers' attention was primarily focussed outwards. So he continued with his plan, and hoped this wouldn't cause too much delay.

Some two hours later, he was starting to get desperate, although at least whatever the lockdown had been about, it was loosening. It was approaching dusk and while he had managed to get himself into the commercial area unnoticed, few ships were interested in passengers and none were interested in ones with no credits. Apparently no-one was hiring self-claimed nearly-sixteen year olds. He leaned back against the bench, working up the energy to see if he'd missed any ships in the row before he started on the next one, when he heard raised voices behind him.

"- half the take, you nerf-brained idiot. And that was a good job."

"I can get it back, Corvan. Oh come on, like you've never taken a really good wager. He kriffin' cheated!"

"Of course he cheated, you dumb bantha dropping, I'm kicking you out not only for gambling the take, but also for being _surprised_ he cheated!"

More complaining. Canan listened half-heartedly, although ready to get in as soon as this was done and see if this meant a position was open to inveigle. If this guy would take on a _I can so pass for nearly sixteen._ Pity most of the pilots he'd approached didn't seem to agree.

 _Come on; get on with it and go away_ , he thought impatiently. He straightened up. Something had happened. There was the sound of a fist meeting flesh and he shuffled over on his bench and then leaned to the side to look between and under two ships. There was a pair of feet, and then the bottom of a pair of feet. The second pair of feet pushed themselves upright and there was a spitting sound, followed by a thud of dust near the first pair. Then the second pair turned and walked off. _Right, you're up_ , he thought, straightening up and checking for stormtroopers before lurking between the ships.

* * *

The man was stacking crates, moving them from a loader to his cargo bay. Canan studied him for a few moments from a distance. He saw a human; he had the slight suspicion he might be a Mandalorian, but there were no particular signs he could point to on that. Unremarkable-looking, brown hair and beard, a bent nose and a scar running across it. He wasn't a great deal taller than Canan, although he was much stockier and probably about twice his weight. Could be very weathered thirties, could be well-preserved early fifties. He also looked like he took no _drek_. By this point, Canan had long since realised that his best chance was to be self-assured. Being in any way nervy or shy was shut down immediately by the no-nonsense pilots and cargo ship captains. In the spirit of this, he walked up to the man.

"Heard you might need labour," he said.

The man didn't pause his movements. "You just offer your labour around, kid?" he asked, picking up another crate and bringing it inside.

"For passage for me and my kid sister off the planet. Preferably In, but I'm negotiable."

"No deal."

"I'm pretty useful."

"What can you do?"

"Uh. Well, I can fly a ship."

"So can I."

"Navigate?"

"Got one. Me."

"Shoot?"

"I'm good at that too."

"There's always manual labour – which you are short of."

The man glanced over at him. He saw a boy of about fourteen with black hair that he had an immediate suspicion was not its original colour and bright green eyes. He looked like he was used to hard work, although his accent was hard to place. Probably Coruscant. Well-spoken Coruscant. He could also see the blaster at the kid's side. Well, not too surprising on this outwater planet.

"How old are you, kid?"

"Nearly sixteen," lied Canan with no hesitation.

"Yeah right. What are you running from?"

"I'm not running from anything, I just want passage off the planet. Sister's sick and I need to get her to Coruscant. We'll planet-hop if we have to though. I'm willing and able to work our way."

The man regarded him another moment and Canan had the uncomfortable feeling he didn't believe a word of it.

"Get started then. Call it a trial run. Not promising anything." The man turned away to get another crate, ignoring Canan. Canan decided to take it as promising at least. It was possible that he'd use him for work now and dump them, but he had to take the chance.

They worked in silence. Canan did his best to keep up with the man, and for the most part he succeeded, although he was finding himself getting physically exhausted by the end of it. Still, if he could just get a full night's sleep between shifts of this sort of work, he'd cope. Dusk was falling as the number of crates still to be moved got small enough that he could see over them at least.

"What do you ship?" he asked at one point, innocently enough.

"Rule one, no questions," replied the man without looking over.

Canan took the hint and they finished in silence. The man spared him a glance once he was done. "Be here at first light. I have the third slot out and I'm taking it. Unloading the cargo and you next planet over."

Canan was just fine with that. He nodded. "We'll be here. See you then." He turned and slipped off between the ships, hoping that he wouldn't be recognised between now and then. That the stormtroopers wouldn't show up with one of their holoimages. But he couldn't control that. And he needed to get back to Mira. It was getting late.

* * *

.

While they could take to the roofs in the ruined district with relative impunity, especially as night was falling, it was night in an unfamiliar place and they were trying to find a child that did not want to be found in one of these houses somewhere in the district. They'd worked out the rough area Canan must have found his hiding spot, but that still left numerous buildings to check in varying state of falling apart. They took it methodically, and kept an eye out for stormtrooper movement, but they were all getting more afraid that they were on the wrong track. Or they were too late. The night air remained still and silent as they reconvened on a roof top.

"It's time we broke the rules," said Hera soberly. "We need Kanan's co-operation to save them now. We don't need to say where we're – when we're from, but that there's something…Dark Force hunting them too and we will protect them. If everything comes out, Kanan will have to conceal what he knows until it all makes sense again."

"He was at the spaceport," started Sabine. "Me and Ezra can run back and get him?"

"No need," said Ezra from his watchpost. "I see him."

The Spectres moved to see where he was going. Kanan had come out on the deserted road almost beneath them. He glanced back and then jumped up to grab the wall, finding a safe grip and pulling himself up to drop lightly over the other side of it. The group on the roof could see him in a back alleyway directly below them. As they watched with a certain disbelief, he vanished into a hole in the wall of the house they were perched on. With no expectations that they were that close, none of them had had time to formulate a plan and they had no idea what exactly was in the house below.

* * *

.

Canan suddenly had a very bad feeling as he went into the house. It was late and the stairs were dark. He had to move cautiously to avoid rotten planks and creaky treads that grated his alarmed nerves. He hoped Mira was okay. She hadn't left, no-one had seen him leave… The door was ajar. Why was the door ajar? A sense of nightmare unreality sank over him again. He forced himself to make the last few steps, pushing the door open, telling himself that he was getting hysterical for no reason.

Mira had hidden in the wardrobe. He knew that because the door was on the floor and the small body slumped out of it. Her eyes were glassy and she still clutched her tablecloth, which had blackened blaster marks torn through it. They had shot the child where she cowered in the only cover in the room. Canan had just time to take that in when the house erupted. Clones had swarmed out of the main room below and blocked the stairs. More were coming out the landing. He darted into the room and closed the door behind him, giving the body another frantic look. That she was dead and he was too late hit him at about the same moment that the door crashed open and the first shot whined past his face and smashed the window.

It snapped Canan out of his paralysis. The doorway was narrow and numbers were a hindrance to the clones until they sorted themselves out. In few seconds inevitable delay, he whirled and threw himself through the window, where glass was still falling from the blast.

He flew out far further than he should have by ordinary physics. But his main urge was _away_ and he instinctively reached out to the Force for aid. He still landed on broken glass though and felt something warm on his cheek as he scrambled up and bolted out of the alleyway, hearing the clones coming out the front and back doors.

Kanan's entering the house to Kanan's exiting the house via an upstairs window followed by blaster fire was about twenty seconds, all told. It was just long enough for Ezra to be held upside down by his legs by Zeb to see into an upper window, but all that gave him was a view of several stormtroopers storming out of the room and onto the landing. He gestured wildly to Zeb as splintering glass over the other side of the house indicated Kanan's escape. Zeb hauled him up, cursing freely as Hera and Sabine met them.

"Ezra, Sabine, go after him, lead the stormtroopers off. Buy him time. We'll follow on." She glanced to Zeb who looked away with an exhale.

The younger pair assented with quick nods before turning and dashing off, Sabine having knotted her robe up entirely away from her legs. It gave her an odd tail, and her Mandalorian leg armour was entirely visible, but both were very low on her priority list right now.

"Best not to have'em here," he muttered. Hera nodded. She hoped that Mira had managed to hide, that the troopers had thought she was with Kanan. But if they were wrong, there were still some things the adults Spectres wanted to keep their younger crewmates from seeing.

* * *

.

Hera dropped onto shattered glass still littering the windowledge. She brushed what she could away with her feet before ducking down to drop into the room on the other side. Bedroom; bed, wardrobe, open door.

"Mira? _Lia'ry?_ " she tried softly, but her eyes were drawn to the wardrobe again. She moved around the bed as Zeb swung himself into the room, avoiding the windowledge entirely.

Hera closed her eyes as she was confronted with the youngling from the transport lying dead in the wardrobe. The stormtroopers had had no more mercy on a seven year old than they had on Master Billaba. She crouched down beside her and gently touched her skin. She had been dead for some time and her body was cool. What blood had escaped from the scorch injuries had congealed.

"Ngh, **_frell_ it**," a sickened groan from her crewmate as Zeb turned away from the sight in frustration. He hadn't been able to save Lasat children in the genocide of his people and they couldn't save a kid during the destruction of the Jedi either.

Hera fiercely fought herself under control. There was nothing this child could be accused of that warranted this cruelty, the signature cruelty of the new Empire. And that she was a child of her own world, a "little sister", made it harder. It made her furious that Twi'leks always were victims in the galaxy. She felt an extra pang of rage as she realised the body had deliberately been left like that to paralyse Kanan when he returned and give them an advantage.

"I'm sorry, _lia'ry_ ," she said softly. "He tried to protect you. So did we. I'm so sorry we couldn't." She closed the glassy brown eyes and covered her with the scorched tablecloth. It was the best they could do. She stood up, her face set. They might not be able to go after the people who had done this, but they would deal with the Inquisitor. As she moved towards the window, the comm. crackled into life.

 _::"Spectre 5? Still got some stormtroopers, have you picked up Kanan?"_

 _::"Still not got eyes on him, but I know he's nearby. Alleys are too close to each other here, it's like a warren."_

 _::"Gotcha, I think I can lose the last bucketheads in the next few."_

::"We're on our way, Spectre 5 – Six, do you need backup?" Hera broke in.

:: _"Think I'm good. We lost most of them a while back. These are just the "smart" ones."_ He sounded dismissive. - _::"Stormtroopers distracted. Coming back to you, Five."_ The voice sounded out of breath and as Hera and Zeb climbed back onto the roof, they could see the distant orange flare of an explosion right over at the western edge of the city. Zeb scanned over the rest of the city and frowned, pointing out a red dot to Hera.

::"Spectre Five, is that you with the red flare near the edge of the district?"

Silence. Then Sabine's voice again.

 _::"I see the Inquisitor. He's got Ka- wait, he's got_ someone." She sounded confused. _"But I think he knows where he is."_

::"We're on our way." Hera and Zeb were already flying across the rooftops, Hera relieved that this had been a district of conveniently closely-packed houses. Being able to go over the top and take more or less a straight line was helpful.

* * *

.

Canan fled into an alleyway and wriggled between two dumpsters, huddled frozen against the wall. He had heard the sounds of the stormtroopers fading behind him, heading off another direction, but he couldn't give them much thought now that they weren't immediately in front of him. Actually, he couldn't quite summon up any thoughts on anything, his mind a shocked blank and his ears still ringing. He drew his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, making himself as small and invisible as possible from the road, and leaned his forehead against his knees as he tried to quietly recover his breath. He felt like he should be crying or something, but even that energy or emotional engagement was currently beyond him. He also didn't dare even that much sound. After a few moments of silence, questions started trickling back in, although he couldn't begin to formulate answers to them.

 _How did they know? If they followed us, why didn't they just kill us then? Was she seen? Did she go to the window? Why did I leave her behind!_ He'd had that bad feeling, that chill in the air that he couldn't quite give reason to. He realised that his face was bleeding and gingerly touched it. Nothing seemed to be embedded at least.

It was cold, a chill in the warm evening air. But it was more than just physical cold. That same sense of malevolence he'd felt inside the house, that he felt from the city in general right now. He frowned, lifting his head. _Was_ it? There was something about that sensation that was more than just "cold". Something wrong. Something the _Force_ was warning him about. Something…it had tried to warn him about before-

A sound. Footsteps, one stumbling. He leaned back cautiously, able to see in a thin line between the back of the dumpster and the alley wall. Black… robes? And then the footsteps moved and he saw a flash of brown robes. _Jedi_ robes? He thought he heard a whimper. Then a soft, cruel voice that he didn't trust one bit.

"Come on out, padawan. I have a friend here."

An intake of breath and quick, panicked words. "Don't! It's a tr-" a thud as something metal hit flesh, and the voice subsided in a pained gasp. The voice confirmed what Canan had already assumed, that it was Master Jhesa a's padawan, Ginia Tix. He grimaced, both because he liked her and therefore didn't like her being in this awful situation and also because of all the padawans he would have chosen to be in dire straits with for their fighting ability, Tix … wasn't on the shortlist. But who or what was this?

"It seems your friend doesn't want to come out and play, padawan. Shall we go find him?" Footsteps. One set were sure, the other seemed highly reluctant and were being pulled along, scraping the ground of the alleyway.

There was nowhere to hide in here. He had no idea what was coming after him now. It didn't sound like a clone – a stormtrooper. But he was pretty kriffing sure it wasn't friendly. His options were to cower in here or to try take some control of the situation. He crouched down, seeing the feet on the other side of the dumpster. Styles' blaster was in his hand. He waited for an opportunity and got it as the black-clad legs shunted the brown ones sharply out of his way. Then he fired, hitting the man in the leg – or at least in the robes. From his sudden jump, he suspected that he'd at least winged him.

The dumpster was ripped away, far faster than anyone should have been able to pull it, and flung across the alleyway with a clatter. Canan stared in disbelief as his hiding place was suddenly revealed. And now he could see what was hunting for him.

* * *

The Inquisitor stared down at the cowering padawan, his yellow eyes narrowed. _The trapped rat has fangs_ , he thought, the score across his calf burning. He gripped his first victim by her hair, a boney thin hand snarled through it near her skull, and wielded her like a puppet, keeping her off-balance. As she attempted to back up from the other padawan, a vain attempt to protect him, he yanked hard on her hair again, ripping out another clump. She kicked at him and he snorted and shoved her out to arm's length, still gripping her hair, before lifting her easily and shaking the kid like a rat. Tears ran down her face at as she clawed at his arm and face with her tied hands, but couldn't get the reach for his face or the grip on the heavy cloth protecting his arm.

Canan still had no idea what the hell was coming at them, but he recognised Tix. Another padawan was still alive! For now, anyway. He launched himself at the man gripping her from his seated position, aiming to hit him in the stomach with his shoulder. While he thought he heard a grunt, it was like hitting a wall, and it deflected him mostly past the tall man. He stumbled as he landed to the man's right, turning and raising his blaster in a fluid movement. The man was far quicker than it should have been possible for him to be, whipping around and igniting a red lightsaber horizontally in front of his face, the red flash temporarily blinding him. He scrambled back a few paces, blinking rapidly. His night-vision had been ruined by that. Red? A red lightsaber? _But that's… Sith lore, there's been no Sith in generations_...

Whether that was the case or not, something Dark was standing in front of him and would kill them both if he didn't snap out of it. He jumped back another few paces to give himself space and drew his own lightsaber, igniting it. Blue light joined the red in the alleyway, lighting up the walls. He saw him properly now. Tall, with long black robes and some sort of cowl that stood out at the sides, adding several inches to his already intimidating height. Thin, but he looked fast – and he was strong; Canan had already seen that. His face was white, skin stretched over bone with thin red-purple lips and cold yellow eyes. And a sense around him of palpable menace. Dark Side energy.

"What _are_ you?" he asked warily, keeping his lightsaber ready and watching the man's body for hint of movement. _Let the Force guide me_ … he thought, first trying to push away his fear and then accepting it, trying to release it into the Force as his training had taught him.

"Your training is lacking, Padawan," said the man with a look of amused mockery. "A sad indictment of your Master – but given she was cut down by the clone troopers readily enough, that's probably not surprising."

Canan felt winded, although also angered at the words. " _You_ were there?" he asked with narrowed eyes.

The man idly yanked the girl's head from one side to the other again, in case she was getting any foolish ideas about heroics. "I could say something like that I'll always be there in the shadows waiting for you, but really, it would be pointless since neither of you are getting out of this alleyway. I take it my stormtroopers found the youngling you were ineffectively protecting?"

Canan brought his lightsaber to guard position, still keyed up for the man to move. " _Your_ stormtroopers? You set them on her?" he asked, his voice low and harsh.

"I was busy." Ginia Tix groaned in pain as his fingers tightened against her bleeding scalp again.

* * *

Sabine moved as quickly as she dared across the rooftop, trying to get an angle on the Inquisitor's back where she didn't risk hitting either teenager. The narrowness of the alleyway was working against her, sheltering his head and upper body from snipers. Regardless of where exactly the back-up was (and she hoped it was near), if she could just get a shot, she was taking it. Before the Inquisitor killed both of them. She made a quick dart as the dumpster clattered against the opposite wall of the alleyway, the noise covering her footsteps.

Canan made a swift move, dropping and sweeping for the Inquisitor's legs again. He had to redirect at the last moment as the man stepped back sharply and swung his victim into Canan's swing. He only barely managed to pull back, searing the edge of her robes. The man grinned nastily and then drove forward, beating back the padawan with a series of impossibly-swift slashes that the boy had to defend from with both hands on his lightsaber. Tix had no choice but to be dragged along, although she managed to twist with another cry of pain and stick her leg between his. He stumbled, snarled, and as Canan took the moment to stab for his stomach, he swung the girl around wholesale and smacked her into the boy, sending both reeling. Then he took the other lightsaber from his side and ignited it too. Another blue flare. Ginia Tix lifted her head and bared her teeth in pained fury at seeing her tormenter with her blade.

::"Need you here now, Spectres, I can't wait any longer or he's going to kill them." Sabine's voice, tight and controlled.

::" _We can see the lights, we're coming up on you now!"_ Hera's voice, out of breath.

"Now, I was going to kill her and make you watch, boy, mostly for all the trouble your friends gave me. But I've bonded with Padawan Tix here and I think it will be far more instructive to kill you and make her watch instead."

Canan tensed for another strike, but he suddenly felt intense pressure around his throat. He made a panicked lunge, half-recognising the sensation, but only from old stories and theory. A Jedi legend was trying to kill him. The man dodged his attempt with ease and made a lifting motion. Canan found himself kicking for the ground as it vanished from under him, the pressure on his throat rendering him unable to breathe. He clawed at whatever was gripping him, but only felt his own throat.

A purple splatch suddenly coated the man's upper body and face, also spattering Tix. He snarled in surprise, slashing at her to head off any opportunistic attack and clutching harder with the hand manipulating Canan's neck. But in the moment he was temporarily blinded, Sabine had loosed two swift shots. He dodged one by instinct, pulling Tix into its path and scoring her arm, but only diverted a second from his stomach to his leg. He hissed, scraping the paint from his eyes and now on guard again. Canan gurgled and struggled against him in the air to no avail. His movements were getting weaker.

* * *

Sabine watched in frustration as she tried to get another shot on the Inquisitor. He was using both Kanan and the red-haired girl as cover. Alarmed as Kanan stopped struggling and went limp in the air, she took another shot, spraying the edge of the Inquisitor's robe and wishing she could use something more deadly than paint. But almost anything she sent had a good chance of being deflected into one of the padawans. Until the rest got here with more options, her best chance was another blinding shot.

The Inquisitor turned to find the third person attacking him, scanning the roof. Another splotch hit him, the slash of his lightsaber breaking the pellet reducing, but not eliminating, the spatter of red over his robes.

"Oh, it's the _artist_ ," he hissed. "No explosions for me today, artist? I suppose you don't want your little friends' arms and legs scattered around the alley. So, let me be clear, one more shot and your friend dies. Paint is difficult to get out."

He heard running footsteps and rolled his eyes. "And there's the airless air support. Well, I was planning on killing one of you anyway." He made another clutching gesture, to which his victim didn't react at all, and then flung Canan against the back wall of the alley. He hit the wall and slid down it, landing unmoving on the ground. Tix lunged for her friend's dropped lightsaber which shivered on the ground and then jumped to her hand. Then the Inquisitor's foot came down on it, trapping her fingers long enough for him to grab her hair again and wrench her towards him. She lost her hold, knuckles bleeding from being scraped over the alleyway, and was dragged in front of him.

The Spectres arrived, Hera and Zeb from one direction and Ezra landing on Sabine's roof. Blasters trained on the Inquisitor from both sides, he stood with the downed padawan behind him, a red-haired girl in padawan robes kneeling in front of him with his lightsaber's hilt pointing towards her. The other beam flared out behind him, and it was just as clear that he could still use it to block any attempt at shooting at him. Given they all remembered that it was a double-bladed lightsaber, no-one could move. Kanan wasn't moving either and no-one could tell if he was alive or dead. The red light played over the alleyway, both blue ones extinguished.

The Inquisitor smiled.

* * *

 _AN: I will not deny that this particular Inquisitor is a bit of a showboat! He likes setting up intimidating entrances and exits. Mostly he likes people being afraid of him, hence his focus on Tix once he realised that he'd not been able to "build a relationship" (i.e. hunt and terrorise) Kanan and Mira, thanks to Ezra's interference. Realising that their terror was far more focused on the stormtroopers, to gift the children to them while he taunted his new prey was quite satisfactory._

 _On the other hand, since the stormtroopers were blatantly incompetent to not kill Dume, his turn again. And a new game to play with Tix._

 _And yes, I'm afraid little Maarje/Mira was doomed from the start; a promising youngling who never got to become a padawan, much less a Jedi._

 ** _TBC: Chapter 11: Caught._**

* * *

 _Thanks for the reviews!_

 _rubythrone - Nope! Maybe they should have explained about the Inquisitor earlier, but they were really trying not to totally screw with Kanan's mind. :D_

 _Ithilwen - Kanan did give Ezra his lightsaber, yeah - he used it to make the Inquisitor think he was Kanan back in the forest the night of the Republic's fall, but it's been a bit of a ..oh, what's the word for it...McGuffin! since. He's really not experienced with it yet and is frankly rather nervous of using it, but it's the only thing that might give them an upper hand against an Inquisitor that can deflect anything they throw at him. Kanan J will be making a reappearance...hm...chapter after next, I think ^^_

 _kobamaru - Thanks, glad you're enjoying it! :D_


	11. Chapter 11: Caught

**Chapter 11. Caught.**

 _Residential district, south-east Plateau City_

* * *

.

The Inquisitor broke the silence first with a mocking voice that made a silently furious Hera narrow her eyes, keeping her blaster levelled on him.

"Since we're at an impasse, I will get to the point. There are four people I care enough to hunt on this planet and I have two and a half already and hours to go. Your choices are to leave the Bridger boy and depart, since I really don't care about you, or quite simply to all die."

None of them could tell if Kanan was alive or not from here. He hadn't moved since he'd landed at the back of the alleyway.

"You set the stormtroopers on the child," said Hera sharply. "If you care about your hunt, why would you do that?"

Ezra stayed low for now, making himself hard to see against the roof, blaster in hand, although he was ready to switch to the lightsaber. He narrowed his eyes, caught by a tiny movement of the girl's bound hands on the ground. She was Pulling on her lightsaber.

"I had found their bolthole," he said dismissively. "And this little quarry was on the move. Besides, thanks to Bridger's interference, they had no idea I existed." He appeared to consider the point. "I like to build up a relationship with my prey. Their abject terror when hunted to exhaustion is…sweet. It was greater justice to set the stormtroopers on them. Even if I doubt they appreciate the savour."

" _Justice_!" Hera couldn't manage more than the one word, in a splutter of rage.

"You call this justice?" Ezra asked disbelievingly.

The Inquisitor shrugged. "It's the Empire's justice. That is the only justice that matters."

There was one of those pauses where talking has not resolved the stand-off but no-one has actually moved yet. The Inquisitor rolled his eyes.

"Since you're apparently not availing of my offer, I suppose I better get on with it."

The Inquisitor wrenched Tix to her feet. At the same moment, her lightsaber spun towards her. He activated the other beam.

Hera and Sabine both loosed shots at his sides, but the beam passed straight through the padawan and flared out of her chest, even as the Inquisitor was now a step ahead of where their shots had aimed, pushing Tix forward with his hand gripping her shoulder forcing her stumbling step. Neither struck, the blasts scorching the alley walls. Tix looked down at the red beam with widened eyes, body and mind going into shock. But she also saw her fingers clenched tightly around her own hilt. _As usual…_ Her world narrowed to the split-second choice that would be her last either way _._ She ignited it.

Blue and red lightsabers went dark as the Inquisitor stumbled back, the blue beam having passed through Tix and into the Inquisitor's thigh. She crumpled silently to the ground, the hilt rolling away.

The Inquisitor backed off with a low hiss of pain and fury, his right leg noticeably weakened as he moved. Although the very sudden death of the hostage padawan had hit them all sharply, they were all trained to take instant advantage of opportunity and this was their first. Ezra and Zeb leaped down into the alleyway, Ezra activating Kanan's lightsaber.

* * *

.

Canan was gradually finding consciousness again, but was finding it deeply unpleasant. He felt like he'd been run over by a speeder, possibly one that had reversed a few times. There was literally no part of him that didn't hurt right now. And he couldn't see properly. There appeared to be several alleyways swinging blurrily in front of him in the wrong dimension. _No, you're lying down. Lightsabers? Blue? Master Billaba's isn't blue._ The wandering lines of the Inquisitor's form stumbled back into view. _Tix_? Lightsaber…blaster, something. He picked one alleyway to focus on and scanned for his lightsaber. There…under the dumpster. He stretched out his hand towards one of the lightsaber hilts and tried to get his head under enough control to focus.

Multiple shots were fired from several directions. The Inquisitor dodged Hera's shot, and ricocheted Zeb's far more dangerous one towards Sabine's perch. She started backwards, but the eave crumbled underneath her as the edge of the roof collapsed. She half-controlled her slide/fall into the alleyway, landing hard, but rolling to absorb most of the impact.

"Come on then, padawan's padawan, let's see if you can actually use your master's weapon." The Inquisitor gathered himself as he spoke and leaped suddenly, shots following him in the air as he aimed for Ezra, bringing his weapon down towards his head. Ezra blocked on instinct, but instincts aren't always helpful when weight difference is applied from above and he was forced down, breaking the lock and rolling away. The Inquisitor's landing wasn't as graceful as it might have been, and he instinctively sought distance. Zeb jumped back, his bo-rifle crackling along its length as he swung for the Inquisitor's back. The Brother spun and slashed at the bo-rifle's handle, momentarily surprised when it didn't slice through it.

"You think once I knew your sort was out there I wouldn't get 'weave on this?" Zeb asked rhetorically as he took the hit easily and whipped his staff under the Inquisitor's saber. Reach for reach, he had an advantage, but the Inquisitor was a lot faster. On the other hand, he was already injured. The Inquisitor leaped back, away from the crackling purple energy, landing mostly on his left leg. It still pained him though and he switched to defence, rejoining his blades swiftly. The hilt clicked rapidly and the blades whirled into life. The Inquisitor was partly obscured every second moment by the flash of a saber passing in front of his face, drawing electric red circles in front of him. In the gloom of the alleyway, the apparent choppiness of his movement only added to his menace.

"Zeb, get down!" yelled Ezra, a flash of Force instinct giving him a glimpse of what would happen. As Zeb dropped, the red double-bladed saber spinning through the air towards them, Ezra cleared him, striking the spinning weapon away. _Thanks Kanan, I learned that one from you yesterday_ _in fifteen years time_. A flash of blue caught his attention. Teenage Kanan was still alive (which meant he still had a chance at thanking adult Kanan personally when they got out of here). For a brief moment, blue eyes met the green ones and Ezra readied his blade as the Inquisitor recalled his own.

::"Hera! Now!" Ezra spoke into his comm., not taking his eyes off the Inquisitor and hoping she could see what he was doing. Hera, up on the roof, knew exactly what he meant and although it seemed like absolute madness, she had to trust he knew what he was doing. She fired on him.

Canan was holding his lightsaber, although not entirely certain of what to do next. He'd managed to get himself sitting upright against the wall, which did have the benefit of having the blurs presumably the right way up. He had no idea where the blaster was and he was pretty sure he wasn't going to get far even if he could get up. So in the absence of anything useful to focus on without, he turned his focus within, looking for a way to work with the Force. A spark of Force-instinct struck - the short-term battle precog that helped make the Jedi so formidable - as he looked at the blue flash down the alleyway. For a moment in the fog, he knew there was another Jedi there – and he knew what (Tix?) was about to do.

Ezra's blade flashed, the blaster bolt ricocheting against it. The Inquisitor didn't bother to connect with it as he knew it would pass him harmlessly.

"Perhaps you need more pract-" Too late, he knew what was coming. Canan's blade twitched, although his gaze was somewhat glassy still. The bolt deflected straight for the Inquisitor's back. He half-turned and the blast struck him in the side.

Sabine pounced from the wall like a vengeful cat, landing on the Inquisitor's shoulders as he staggered. In the moment between his regripping his lightsaber and dicing her, Sabine's hand had plunged into his cowl. She leaped away, springing onto a fallen dumpster and then diving into the shelter of a doorway. Zeb crouched and sprang further than he reckoned he ever had in his life, landing low at the back of the alleyway and grabbing the semi-conscious padawan in one movement. He uncoiled again for the nearest shelter, a hole into the ground floor of a roofless house. He had just landed hard in the hallway, trying to protect the kid as much as he could from debris with his body, when the building shook as the blast reverberated down the alley. The buildings weathered the shock, despite several more tiles falling from the roof Sabine had previously inhabited.

Hera was first to recover, as the only one that hadn't had to scramble and she darted on hands and knees to the side of the roof, lying down to look over. The Inquisitor was mostly gone. Some black material remained, and enough bits to be reasonably sure he hadn't somehow escaped from his robes. So far, so good – she'd be relieved once she'd counted heads.

Zeb shook his head, his ears ringing and then crawled the pace closer necessary to reach for the teenage Kanan's shoulder.

"You better be alive after all that, kid," he growled. It was difficult to tell, especially since the cut from the window glass had left his face gory with smeared and half-dried blood. Everything else was white, sun-pink or bruised and unhelpful for ascertaining life.

Most of Canan's brain wanted to be unconscious right now. But some stubborn spark of self-preservation kept trying to wake him up and get him out of danger. A growl nearby. His mind flashed to the Inquisitor and he fought through the fog. So it was unfortunate that the first thing he saw when he finally got his eyes open and focussed and the only thing he _could_ see in the near dark was a pair of yellow-green eyes and claws reaching for him. He reacted instinctively, his focused will to get the Inquisitor _away_ working through the Force and resulting in a wave of energy that blew Zeb back out the empty front doorway of the house and into the wall on the opposite side of the alley.

Canan twisted to his feet, finding reserves of energy from somewhere that he was probably going to have to pay for at some point soon, and darted for the hole to the outside, jumping from the windowledge and landing in a crouch.

 _Tix is dead_. The red hair the Inquisitor had been casually yanking her around by was splayed over the ground around her head. It was too bright to be the same as that of the woman who'd nearly died in her place back in the market. Although maybe it would have darkened if she'd had the chance to grow to adulthood. _Sorry, Tix_. He couldn't articulate anything more than that even to himself. He reached out blindly towards the back of the alleyway and Force-pulled his lightsaber to him before he turned and fled. He did catch a glimpse of the Inquisitor's remains, but it was a good five minutes before it filtered through as to what they had been. And the thought that there was yet another thing (let alone another yellow-eyed clawed thing) in this frelling city that wanted to kill him wasn't going to slow him down.

::"Ugh…well…kid's alive." Zeb groaned into his comm. and then pushed himself upright. "Kanan's gonna owe me for that," he grumbled, rubbing the back of his head.

Hera climbed down as Sabine came out of her bolthole, casting a professional eye over the remains of her handiwork. Effective and hadn't brought down the houses.

 _::"I'll go after him, but I'll stay out of sight. Just see he doesn't bolt into a patrol or anything."_ Ezra, staying high and turning to take a more direct route across the narrow streets and alleys of the ex-western district after the fugitive.

:: "Alright, just remember he'll be alert to being hunted right now."

* * *

.

Hera exhaled. They had killed the Inquisitor. They could get out and stop causing changes that could result in getting their friend killed or irreparably damaging the galaxy. She moved over to crouch by the other padawan. The red-haired girl was probably only around Sabine's age.

"Ginia Tix, wasn't it? The other name on the list." Sabine was standing beside her. "He called her Padawan Tix."

Hera nodded with a soft sigh, taking her knife and cutting the bindings around the girl's wrists, tossing the thin cord away. It wasn't much and made no difference to her now, but it seemed the least she could do. She doubted the stormtroopers would treat the body with any great respect.

A soft "phut" noise and the alley erupted in smoke. Or at least, something like it. Completely taken by surprise, the three Spectres found themselves coughing and spluttering.

"Freeze! Stay where you are!" commanded a voice over their noise. They didn't really have much choice, but they heard pounding footsteps and blasters being raised. Sabine frantically worked her "tail" loose with the help of Hera's knife, holding her breath against the acrid smoke. As it cleared, the sniffling, eye-watered group could (mostly) see a patrol of five stormtroopers in the mouth of the alley. Three of them had weapons on them, the other two were keeping watch on the street.

The three Specters kept their hands visible. The drop had been thoroughly gotten on them. The leader, a sergeant Hera thought, although she was still having trouble keeping up with the insignias, indicated for them to move back against the wall before he leaned down to inspect the body in the brown robes.

"Bounty hunters, is it?" he asked with mild distaste. "Well, you got one of the fugitives anyway." He leaned closer and gave Zeb a sharp look, eyeing the bo-rifle on his back. "Unusual wounds," he said slowly. "Could almost be a lightsaber."

Zeb shrugged, raising his eyebrow challengingly. "Want me to demonstrate?" he asked.

The sergeant shrugged. "Not particularly - I doubt she stabbed herself." He flicked some of the hair aside and glanced at Zeb again, this time at his sharp-nailed hands. Zeb glared back, taking a moment to realise what he was thinking and unable to defend himself. He folded his arms and regarded the sergeant loweringly.

The Sergeant decided not to comment on the girl's torn-up scalp. There were certain types of people that took the life of bounty hunter and pretty much all of them were unsavoury, but currently these galactic dregs were working for the Empire. "Who was that?" He nodded to the Ex-quisitor.

"Rival bounty hunter. She got him first." Sabine nodded to Tix. The sergeant eyed the remains, of which there wasn't many, and then the Jedi girl's body again.

"Sooner the rest are destroyed the better," he commented. "Report to the main post in the city centre tomorrow and you can claim the bounty. You can give my name, Sergeant Earlie, as I'll approve the release. You can go for now. We'll take over here."

"Understood, sergeant." They filed out from between the stormtroopers, who surreally were not trying to kill them, and kept silent until they were a couple of streets away.

"So now what?" asked Zeb quietly, once they had some distance, walking down a street of black-eyed buildings.

Hera didn't answer immediately, but touched her comm. ::"Spectre 6? Don't return to the alley, we had stormtrooper company. Where are you?"

 _:: "Heading for the Spaceport still. We're both okay - it's been quiet so far._

:: "Okay. We're going back to the transport. We'll need to set off first thing tomorrow."

 _:: "Back to the army camp? What about Kanan?"_

::"We've done what we were supposed to," replied Hera. _And I'm afraid of what else we've done here._ ::"Kanan survived this without us, and he's got a far better chance without us changing things around him."

There was a reluctant silence. _::"Understood. Spectre 6 out."_

Hera and Zeb exchanged glances as she lowered her comm. It wasn't exactly surprising that Ezra was unwilling to leave right now. If it came to that, she was pretty sure that none of last night was supposed to happen. Whatever Kanan's state when he managed to escape the planet the first time, it was probably worse after the Inquisitor's interference. She hoped he would be alright – and would still be waiting for them in the future. And that they could get back to it.

Zeb's thoughts were different, although they started from understanding that he personally didn't want to leave. He kept quiet as they walked back towards where they'd left the hoverbus. They were done here, they'd saved Kanan and hopefully the few remaining Jedi. It didn't feel like much of a win though (not that these were small things), when they'd seen the Empire rise and the stormtroopers or the Inquisitor had killed with impunity anyone else they tried to help. But they'd not been able to get too involved here. There was the risk of what it would do to – well, Kanan for a start.

 _But Lasan is different. I can't possibly make things worse there. What's worse than exterminated? I know what my mistake was, I could fix it.._.

* * *

.

Given their combing of the district earlier that evening, the group now had a fairly good idea of where they were going as they headed back to the shelter of the hoverbus. None of them talked much, beyond the odd quiet contact with Ezra, who reported that Kanan had avoided trouble and reached the spaceport around the time the Specters reached the speeder. Given Kanan had apparently threaded his way to a specific ship to hide amongst the exhaust ports on top, bets were that he had negotiated transport for the morning, which was a relief to the remaining _Ghost_ crew.

Hera took the driver's seat, pushing the chair back and putting her feet up on the dash. She'd slept in the pilot's seat in the cockpit of _Ghost_ enough times to be quite comfortable like that. She wasn't going to dwell on either today or tomorrow just yet - first she needed a few hours sleep. Hera was, stubborn moments aside, practical and disciplined. She'd be able to think better after letting her mind rest a bit.

Sabine retook her own seat in the back, curling up on both seats in her corner. While she certainly wasn't oblivious to the troubled thoughts that plagued all of them to some extent, she had also been personally hit perhaps least of the group and was for the most part still able to keep a mental step back from what was going on around them, firmly keeping to the forefront of her mind that this had all happened a long time ago, for all they were living it now. She awkwardly straightened a tangle of torn robe that was restricting her legs and felt the hoverbus shudder as Zeb outside climbed up on top of it. Presumably it was the only way the Lasat could stretch out properly.

Zeb lay down on the top of the hoverbus, using his wrap to ward off the nighttime chill. He folded his hands behind his head, looking up at the unfamiliar stars. Although tired, his mind was still on its previous tracks, mulling on Lasan, the Empire and the opportunity of changing things for his homeworld. Thing was, he knew the rest would think it a terrible idea. He wished he'd asked Kanan why he was so determined they avoid changing anything. Was it instinct or some sort of Jedi thing? Zeb couldn't be sure.

 _But how could it get any worse anyway? Can he be_ **sure** _we're not here to make a difference? That the Empire was never supposed to win in the first place?_ It was a tempting thought and no matter how he looked at the question, it kept insinuating into his mind.

That he would still only be one nameless Lasat against the Empire, his people still mowed down in confusion, he kept pushed away. Lasan had happened early on, the people rising against the Empire's claim on the planet. And the Empire had made an example of his world in response. He himself, a captain of the High Honour Guard at the palace, had been knocked out when the first bomb went off in the Lasat seat of power. When he'd woken up, it was to devastation and his people destroyed.

 _There isn't really a reason why I need to go back. Once I'm away from the others and can't influence their lives, I can ensure that I join the Specters in the future. Things'll stay the same - even if I'm fifteen years older again - but Lasan will still be a free planet._ He knew, somewhere buried under hope, that he was deliberately ignoring all the hundred and one difficulties with this. That he was being foolishly naïve about it. But his planet would be wiped out within the next couple of months and he was the only one that could prevent it. He was going to have to convince Hera and the others that it was best to let him stay here though.

He could just leave, of course. It was unlikely that they'd be able to stop him if he was really determined. And he also knew that they needed to get back to Kanan, who was, presumably, still patiently holding the door open, and if forced to make a choice between going after someone choosing to leave and abandoning someone who was both injured and stuck, they would have to make the logical choice. But he'd prefer to convince them of the necessity rather than break their friendship like that.

He was a Specter, and he'd found a family out in space. Zeb would always be grateful for that. But in his heart, he was a Specter second and a Lasat first. The High Honour Guard exhaled silently and tried not to think too much about abandoning his friends. But surely back here and now, his duty to his planet - and the role he'd played back here and now - was more important than personal friendships.

* * *

.

Ezra didn't dare stay much longer. It was approaching dawn, and one cargo vessel had already taken off. He shifted uncomfortably, but then looked up as Kanan finally emerged, moving lightly over the top of the ship he'd parked himself on and sliding down to the ground from its wing after a glance around for any potential trouble, landing neatly. He'd turned his wrap inside out and drawn it around himself again to hide bloodstains and alley dirt. His face was still multi-coloured and he'd pulled his shaggy hair down as much as possible to hide the cut on his cheek, but his water bottle had at least gotten the dried blood off. He didn't look respectable, but at the least he didn't look like he needed a medcenter. He was just starting towards the cargo-bay door when it opened and a short, squat man with a brown beard looked out. He saw the kid immediately and gestured to him.

"Move it, kid. I have a schedule to keep. Sister not here?"

Canan kept his gaze steady, although a bit more through the man than at him. "She took a bad turn last night," he said flatly. "She's not coming, although I still need to get to the Inner Rim."

The man regarded him and then grunted, standing aside and letting the kid enter. If stormtroopers hadn't been around last night with holoimages, Corven would have guessed a bad case of domestic abuse that the younger one presumably hadn't survived. The kid certainly looked like he'd been beaten up. However, since he had seen the holoimages and also wasn't an idiot, he had a good idea of what the kid was actually running from and what had probably happened to the other one.

Corven hadn't liked the Republic much. It had been consistently disapproving of his sort of business. But he strongly suspected he was probably going to like this new Empire even less. The stormtroopers were certainly more pushy and demanding than the Republic troops. Even if they were apparently the same people. Who knew under all that gear? He was also aware that it was almost impossible for an (given value of) honest man to do anything in the city at the moment, swarmed as it was by them. He could have reported the kid that had helped with the loading. But he'd shrugged and said he hadn't seen him. He had no duty or urge to help out the Empire. He had no particularly urge or duty to help stray Jedi either, but if that's what this kid was, he'd done well to survive this far. Evading the entire Kaller division of the Republic army for a day or so and getting himself to the spaceport was no mean feat.

"You get into a fight?" He could, however, do with knowing if stormtroopers were about to pile in the door. He had some sensitive cargo aboard.

Canan looked at him for a moment, with that oddly closed-off expression that had unnerved Ezra the previous day. He wondered if he had judged this man right. Well, he'd find out.

"You said no questions," he replied briefly. The two regarded each other for a moment.

Corven didn't believe in a free ride, but he had an eye for tenacity. Kid looked like he'd faint if he tried to lift anything right now. He looked like he might faint just standing there. But as contrary as it might be, he liked that he'd resisted the urge to give an explanation and avoided throwing himself on his mercy. If the kid was a Jedi and still wanted to get to the Inner Rim, then he was committing suicide, but that was his choice. He made a short gesture over his shoulder.

"Nothing much to do for the next couple of hours. You've got a bunk near the back, the room under the engine. It's noisy, but you'll get used to it. And use the refresher." He turned away, dismissing him. "Oh yeah, what am I to call you, kid?"

The thought of an actual bed, somewhere where he wasn't going to be woken up by stormtroopers sounded like the best thing in the galaxy to the exhausted padawan. He blinked at the question.

"Ezra." _Break the link with Canan and Caleb_ , he thought muzzily. Although he kinda liked Canan. While on the one hand it was linked to absolutely the worst days of his life so far, there was every indication that _that_ would continue anyway, and the group from the transport had gotten him used to it. Maybe he'd change it a bit when he took it up again. Several planets away, maybe.

The man nodded. "Corven. Or Captain. Right, bugger off." He started to raise the cargo-bay door. That was definitely dismissal and the escaped padawan that was currently called Ezra took it. Ship etiquette would force refresher first, but then somewhere close was a bed and he was going to claim it for as long as he was allowed.

* * *

.

The watcher outside exhaled in quiet relief as the conversation faded and the door started to close. Right, the suns were rising and he had to get back.

:: "Spectre 6 to Spectre 2, cargo on ship, ship's about to go. I'm coming back."

 _:: "Roger that. We'll start out to meet you in about ten minutes."_

As Ezra slipped out of the spaceport, he glanced back, hearing the engines of the ship he had perched on. He watched it a few moments as it rose into the sky like a blocky bird and vanished into the cloud.

"See you in fifteen years," he said quietly to the disappearing dot, and then turned to wriggle under the wire at the spaceport's boundary.

* * *

.

As Hera started the motor of the decrepit speeder, Ezra came bounding into view, dashing across the parking lot. She crept the speeder out to meet him and stopped. He climbed in, flopping into a seat.

"He's okay. Ship took off this morning and he was on it." He grinned. "He signed on as Ezra."

"I really hope he doesn't decide to keep that name now. Two Ezras is one more than a small ship needs," came a sleepy automatic snark from the side as Sabine stretched cramped legs, turning to lean against the window with her legs out in front of her across the twin seats.

Ezra made a face at the older teenager. "Ezra is a perfectly good name," he pointed out, taking up a similar comfortable arrangement, as Zeb had claimed the passenger's seat anyway. "He was hardly going to use " _Sabine_ "."

Sabine tossed him a meiloorun that had survived lunchtime the previous day. It was definitely a bit worse for wear by now, but Ezra bit into it enthusiastically. All things considered, food had been a bit sparse since yesterday. As the small transport trundled out onto the main road, he chewed more slowly and stared at the fruit. They had, technically, completed the mission. Kanan was… if not safe, no longer being hunted by an Inquisitor and disrupting the course of his life that ensured he was one of the few Jedi that survived the purge. They'd killed the Inquisitor, so the beacon would be reversed by Obi-Wan. But they hadn't saved the Jedi by the side of the road, they hadn't saved Mira despite the increasingly desperate search – and that had probably been pointless all along - and they hadn't saved the girl in the alleyway either. There were – what, ten thousand Jedi that they hadn't been able to save and it was very hard to separate that it had happened fifteen years ago with that it had also happened yesterday.

Sabine looked over as Ezra stopped chewing and stared at his fruit. She shifted, her movement attracting his attention for a moment. "You did some good Jedi-ing back there, Ezra," she said. "Guess you got the hang of that deflecting thing." She meant it kindly – and genuinely – and it was taken as such.

"Uh, yeah. If I can remember how to do it next time too." He had achieved feats the last two days that he wouldn't – hadn't thought himself capable of, even if Kanan seemed to think he was. Thing was, every time it had happened, he'd done it without entirely figuring out how. But still, he had done them.

"Quick work with the bomb too," he added. "The one thing I … _even_ I wouldn't have done is _jump_ on an Inquisitor." He smiled lop-sidedly, making light of his reputation for daredevil/stupid moves that really should get him killed but so far hadn't.

"Seemed the best thing to do at the time. And I really wanted him dead by then."

"Yeah. Me too. He was…" Ezra sought for a word. "Creepy."

Both of them eyed each other. Ezra broke first. "I guess the kid was dead then," he said quietly. She wasn't with anyone and he figured someone would have said by now if she was alive.

Sabine exhaled, not having quite known whether to broach the subject or not. She nodded. "Hera thought she was killed pretty soon after Kanan left, maybe even before we saw him. We couldn't have reached her in time."

Ezra glared at the fruit again, lips pressed together. He'd known it was going to be bad. He'd just not known how bad. And the other padawan's death in the alley had disturbed him more than he wanted to admit. It had just started to replay during his short catnap near the ship the previous night when he forced himself to wake up. He had the uncomfortable feeling that it would be replaying again. He sighed, flopping back into his seat and looking at the roof of the _Smoothride_ , a name that still tickled his sense of the ridiculous. He felt his foot move the rebreather he'd used on Belior IV what felt like a long time ago, and shunted it further under the seat.

"I really want to get home. I mean, it's bleak there, but… And this is an outer planet. Force knows what Coruscant and the Inner Rim's like."

Sabine nodded, not having much to contribute to that and they both went silent for a bit, Ezra part-turning to look out the window with his face creased into a frown. He slowly finished the fruit, trying not to think about the little kid offering one to Sabine when her mouth was burning from firecheese yesterday. Or the kid his own age heading into the depths of now-Empire territory.

* * *

.

Hera hoped uneasily that nothing had been changed so much as to prevent Obi-Wan Kenobi from doing whatever he needed to do with the beacon. Else Kanan was going to find out what Coruscant was like. And so would other Jedi. Given the thoroughness and violence of the purge, she was no longer surprised that even with their abilities, so few had survived. She was rather surprised that Kanan had ever revealed his Force abilities to the galaxy at all though. Gorse flickered to mind again. When he'd saved her from the falling crane and she'd realised what it was she was picking up from the infuriatingly blasé gunslinger who occasionally did completely out-of-character acts of altruism. He'd been about to leave the planet, knowing his cover was in danger, but then he'd stayed with her and _Ghost_. He'd gone against years of ingrained instinct to stick around then, and again after they'd rescued the Wookies on Lothal, where he'd pretty much outed himself to the galaxy and certainly to the Empire. The Empire that had done this when he was fourteen.

 _Will anything we did now change those decisions?_ She couldn't answer that, feeling a chill at just how many quick decisions had been made over the years to get them all together on the _Ghost_. How often they had gone against their own instincts of self-preservation to take in one stray after another. How easily one decision or another could have gone a different way and changed everything.

* * *

.

Zeb sat in silence beside Hera, watching the road ahead, but not really processing anything he saw. He wasn't so sure about Ezra's words. Here and now was bad, true, but fifteen years ahead, Lasan was gone. His people were gone. Here and now though, they weren't. Yet. But they would be soon. He gazed down the road, thinking about what could have changed to prevent it. He wasn't quite sure how they were going to get back, or even if they could. If they couldn't, if this was where they were ending up, he was going to fight for Lasan. Even if they could get back. He'd see them through and then go home.

 _This time, I'll get it right._

* * *

.

 _AN: Had a divil of a time with Zeb. He just wasn't going to peacefully go home and leave his planet to be destroyed again. And I couldn't find a single good reason as to why he should that would work from his perspective. Although he's counting his chickens a bit previously!_

 _Thanks for the reviews -it's nice that the story is attracting regular readers back! ^^_

 _I felt a little bad about bumping off Maarje/Mira, but there's various reasons for it! The story is coming towards a close now, about three more chapters to go - actually, I miscounted (mostly thanks to Zeb going off on his own line), Ithilwen - Kanan J will reappear eventually though, honest :D_


	12. Chapter 12: The Checkpoint

**Chapter 12. The Checkpoint**

 _Plateau plains, Kaller_

* * *

 _My sincere apologies for the sudden vanishing act, especially just as Zeb decided to get argumentative on me! My laptop had been acting up (and a reformat ate some of my work - rewriting is a right pain in the rear end - before it upped and died entirely and had to be sent to, as is apparently normal these days, another country to be repaired (hmph). So that rather impeded my fanficcing!_

 _But it's back and mostly behaving so on with the story!_

* * *

The suns were getting high as the _Smoothride_ reached the area where they had stopped the previous day for lunch. Although it was objectively a good place to stop, Hera could feel the silent accord in the vehicle as she drove past it, looking for another place. Sabine focussed on the destroyed speeder again, its tailfin still sticking up from the edge of the verge. Ezra squinted against the sun into the treeline on the other side, looking for a glint of …something. Metal. He figured it had been the Jedi's lightsaber Kanan had thrown. He felt Sabine's gaze on his back.

"What happened?" she asked. "You lost me in the hedge."

Ezra leaned back in his chair. He didn't really want to talk about it. Or talk at all, especially as the hoverbus was rapidly heating up. "Talk when we're stopped," he said, starting to gather his thoughts again.

Hera, more used to the climate now, parked the hoverbus close enough to the hedge to provide shade between them for the crew and they lay on the grass to keep cool. Sabine and Ezra were lying near the rear of the vehicle. The other two might or might not be dozing; both certainly looked like they were.

Ezra had decided by now that it wasn't fair to not answer her. Sabine had been "there", but she'd been caught up by the robes thanks to the whole Separatist/Mandalorian issue. That this was (well-meaning) child-logic didn't matter too much. And it was probably for the best, since Sabine already knew that something had happened. He lay on his back on the grass, hands behind his head, although he had his elbows drawn up, one of his unconscious give-aways when he felt cornered or stressed.

"You saw the speeder and the blaster fire in the road – there was a dead Jedi down in the undergrowth. Kanan found him and I found them. I guess Kanan realised I knew he was the Caleb they were looking for. I wasn't able to convince him that we were safe though."

Sabine nodded, lying on her stomach, nimble fingers absently splitting a piece of grass into thinner strips.

"I guess it was a lightsaber he threw then. I thought it had to be. I wasn't sure if he'd decided to get rid of his own one at the time. Do you think he knew him?"

Ezra shrugged. "I don't know. He didn't tell me his name. I wonder was he the master to the padawan in the alley though."

Sabine sighed and rolled onto her side, drawing her legs up. "This is going to be really weird when we get back, isn't it," she said uncomfortably. "I mean… is Kanan going to remember us now? He's never talked about any of this stuff, so he's not going to like that we've…well… _seen_ it."

"He knew we were going to," pointed out Ezra. "He practically sent us after the Inquisitor."

"Mhm, I know." Sabine didn't push it. But she had a couple of years on Ezra; she'd also known Kanan longer, and she suspected that while Kanan had done what he had to do at the time, it didn't mean he was going to like the consequences. There were a few bad points in her life that she wouldn't want a retrospective audience to. Pretty much everything between her weapon being turned on Mandalore and the end of her short career with Ketsu, really. But if this had been one of them, she would definitely have preferred to keep her friends out of it.

 _Especially his padawan_ , she realised with a moment's insight. _Although Kanan, Hera and Zeb do still try to "protect" us both still. Like sending us off to deal with the stormtroopers so we didn't see Mira's body when they went into the house_. It was amusing, albeit only very grimly, that the adults in the group were fine with sending them to deal with a bunch of stormtroopers that wanted to kill them, but the little one's body was too much.

 _Actually, yeah, that's about right_ , she thought with an exhale. _I didn't want to see that little kid dead. And she is. The girl in the alley was bad enough._ Although Ginia Tix' last action in stabbing herself to damage the Inquisitor had probably weakened him enough that they had been able to kill him before the stormtroopers showed up.

They stayed quiet for the next while, both falling into dozes, although Sabine was woken by Ezra's elbow as he shifted uncomfortably. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. Noting that Zeb and Hera were also stirring she gently prodded Ezra awake, seeing from his expression that he was having some sort of nightmare. Ezra started up at the poke and his name, looking around wildly.

"Wh- - oh, right…yeah." He rubbed at his own face. "Ugh." That dream had been far too vivid, mixing elements of their journey, the murderous clone troopers, with Belior IV and his own fears. For a moment he'd seen Kanan back in the temple, lying on the ground in front of the open gate and focussing on it with stormtroopers over him, training their weapons on his back. It took a few moments to shake it off as he told himself his mind was conjuring up demons and that was all. It had left him with an uneasy sense though.

"Mhm." She had some things on repeat as well. But she knew he wouldn't appreciate her calling attention to him now. "We're heading out soon though."

Ezra nodded silently and gathered himself, checking his pants pocket for the lightsaber in its scope-case just in case, even though he'd felt it banging against his leg. For all it was possibly the most dangerous item he could be carrying right now, it was a link to home.

* * *

.

They were stopped twice on the way, and both times they were questioned about the holoimage of Caleb Dume. They shrugged and acted clueless. None of them commented on that they were no longer showing the holoimage of Ginia Tix or asking about the little Twi'lek. Fortunately, they hadn't run into any of the ones that wanted to ask questions about the other boy that had been in their van. Either they'd totally lost interest during the riot, or a message had gone astray. Hera wasn't sure which, but she wasn't going to argue with a bit of actual luck. She took a different route back, remembering what Kanan had said about the layout of the villages along the spokes from Plateau City, and swung along the outer ring to get them back towards the road to the camp. It felt safer to take a less direct route, even if it added time onto the route. Although she too was impatient to get home. The hoverbus was very quiet. She glanced back from time to time, but Ezra and Sabine were both looking out opposite windows. Zeb was in the front seat, but he was looking out of the window too. She released a breath, focussing back on the road.

Zeb groaned under his breath as he saw yet another checkpoint approaching. This one was a hoverbike set-up, the searchers present likely scouting the roads as well. "Frellit, haven't they checked the entire planet at this point," he growled under his breath. Hera muttered agreement to this, glancing back. Neither Ezra nor Sabine were particularly reacting by this point.

"Afternoon, ma'am," the trooper nearest the hoverbus' driver window greeted her pleasantly enough.

"Afternoon," she responded with resigned patience. "This is the fourth stop-and-search so far, you know."

"Security, ma'am. There are –" - _escaped_ _criminals/traitors on the loose_ , she finished the sentence with him mentally. He chose "criminals", she'd gone for "traitors", but otherwise, she was correct down to the cadence.

There were seven stormtroopers as they got out of the hoverbus, and the leader removed his helm, looking at Hera with interest. Last report had placed them in the city, so Captain Kallus hadn't entirely expected to run into them out here. Were they heading back towards where Dume had fled from? If so, why would they be going to the army camp?

"Please get out of the hoverbus, ma'am, we want to ask a few questions."

Hera got out of the hoverbus, but her mind was racing. It had taken a moment to realise that she recognised that voice, but when he'd removed his helm, a younger Agent Kallus was speaking to her. She didn't dare look over to see how Zeb was taking it. She really couldn't predict what he'd do. _Of all the planets in all the galaxy_ **you** _have to be on Kaller?_ she thought in frustration and not a little alarm. Was this a normal stop or did he know them? _Frelllllit_ as several implications of his associating the group together at this stage struck her too. _Okay, focus on now, Hera,_ she told herself, seeing Ezra and Sabine react silently to recognising Kallus too once they were out on the road.

The stormtroopers had them surrounded. Captain Kallus flicked up the now-familiar holoimage of Caleb Dume.

"You gave your name as Hera Ryeet in Dirin-va, ma'am. Your daughter was with you, and either a black-haired or brown-haired boy that looked very like this one. Where is your daughter and the other boy?"

 _Of_ _course it would be Agent Kallus. Or whatever he is at this age_. Hera let out a breath. "Hera Ryeet is my name, and my daughter was with me, along with Ezra's brother, who has _black_ hair. There was a boy that intervened in a wrongful execution, but I don't know what happened to him." She gave him an annoyed look that still managed to have the full force of her Twi'lek charm behind it. Kallus waited patiently. She was going to answer the full question.

Hera realised that too. _Frellitall_. "My daughter is with a friend in the city. Kanan is in a medcenter in the city, he had a bad case of sunstroke. This trip got very complicated." _Not least due to you lot_ was silent but the unspoken words hung in the air.

Zeb stood and silently fumed, staring at Kallus with his eyes in narrow slits. This was the man that had ordered the use of the ion disrupters on his world. The man that had lead the genocide of his people. His fingers played over the activation mechanism on his bo-rifle. Hera beside him could feel the tension radiating from him, and subtly moved her hand to touch his arm. _Stay calm, Zeb…_

"Imperial troops have questioned staff and searched every medcenter in the city, Miss Ryeet. There is no-one of either description in any of them, nor has there been anyone there of that description in months."

"You searched the medcenters?" Buying time with her role as far as possible while she decided what to do now, it was easy to be horrified at stormtroopers searching medcenters full of injured and sick people. And that was before what would have happened had the Jedi been found.

"In the name of the Empire's security, of course, Miss Ryeet. I am authorised to use whatever means are necessary."

 _I bet you are_ , thought Zeb, a red mist descending. _Like when you authorised_ those _weapons. This is my best chance to save at least a few more of them. If he's dead, maybe whoever's in his place will be less willing to use them..._

Hera's main warning was a growl from her right. Zeb shook her hand off his arm and leaped backwards, up onto the hoverbus' roof, his bo-rifle lighting up.

"Zeb!" Too late – and while her first instinct was to dive into the hoverbus, that was almost pointless. They had bike speeders which looked a lot faster than the _Smoothride._ Even if they blew them up, once they called in reinforcements and hunted them in earnest, the hoverbus was no challenge. They were going to have to fight this out just to start with.

Blasters flicked up to follow the Lasat as he drew them away from his crewmates, targeting Kallus with no hesitation.

"For Lasan," growled the High Honour Guard, firing on him.

The whole thing had taken place in moments, from Zeb shrugging off Hera's hand to his bolt flying at a bewildered Captain Kallus who had no idea why an angry Lasat was invoking his homeworld at him. As far as he knew, the Empire didn't particularly have a presence there, although that would probably change.

In the moment between Zeb firing and the stormtroopers returning fire, Kallus' sergeant, Ren Kybus had also taken stock of the situation and was already moving, turning to shove Kallus out of the way. He overshot his mark, stumbling into the path of the bolt as Kallus hit the ground.

Zeb couldn't get another shot as the stormtroopers opened fire on him, and he leaped back off the 'bus, feeling a burning sensation along his back as blaster energy scored across it. He dropped to a knee as he landed, loosing another blast under the hoverbus at white ankles. He'd hit someone, but it was the wrong someone.

The other three scattered while the stormtroopers focussed on the biggest threat, Hera darting around the nose of the hoverbus while Sabine and Ezra went for its tail. At least it would provide some cover. Hera and Sabine opened fire at much the same moment, keeping their blasters on a power setting that would stun rather than kill. A bolt of purple energy zinged under the hoverbus and struck a stormtrooper in the leg. He went down with a yell.

Kallus rolled into a crouch almost as soon as he hit the ground, weapon in hand. His troopers were firing on the rogue Lasat and he moved swiftly to Kybus' side, where he was lying with a smoking hole in his chestpiece. _Come on, Kybus, we're not even on our first official mission yet, you better not be dead._ He was dead. As he pulled off the man's helm, he knew it immediately. A trooper dropped near the hoverbus and he forced himself back to the present, sending a round of blasts under the hoverbus in return.

Sabine's shot had hit its mark. Hera's had hit the same unfortunate that had taken Zeb's blast to the leg. Ezra was slowest to shoot, still by far the most reluctant of them to fire on people, and focussed more on getting a better position.

Zeb heard his crewmates scatter under the distraction – good. He leaped back up onto the hoverbus, the elderly speeder rocking under his weight and aimed another shot at Kallus before jumping down amongst the stormtroopers, switching from ranged to melee.

Kallus rolled to avoid it, the shot blasting up soil in front of his face. As he got to his feet, blinking the grit from his eyes, he saw the damned creature whirl the energy weapon into two stormtroopers, taking out one in front and behind him. As the rest turned on him, shots from behind the hoverbus had dropped another. He fumbled in a pouch, retrieving one of the smoke-bombs for crowd control that most of them were issued with at the moment, arming and lobbing it over the bus. He heard the _hiss_ as acrid smoke leaked from it and the cover fire stopped, replaced by choking noises. The Lasat was pinned in though, the three troopers left staying a wary enough distance from him that he'd not be able to take all of them out before at least one of them got him, but weapons trained on him, and Kallus in front of him. He bared his teeth at the blond man, willing to take his chances with the stormtroopers behind him to get another shot on Kallus. He fired, and so did the troopers.

And so did Ezra from the top of the hoverbus, wearing the rebreather he'd brought to Belior IV what seemed like a long time ago now. With Force-enhanced instinct, his arm snapped his aim between the troopers, taking out two of them. The aim of one of those was thrown off, and his blast missed entirely. The other two hit Zeb in the back and side as his blast scored Kallus' hip, the man throwing himself down to avoid it. A speederbike engine growled, revving sharply. The last stormtrooper standing had just time to turn, raising his blaster when Sabine hit the brakes and turned sharply. The rear of the bike swung around and belted the unlucky clone into the side of the hoverbus. Ezra dropped to a crouch on top of the bus and swung his foot firmly down into the side of the stunned man's head. The stormtrooper dropped, losing all interest in proceedings for a while.

Zeb stalked towards Kallus, for the moment either not noticing or ignoring the burning across his back. The man was on the ground, gripping his side. His hand grasped for his blaster, but Zeb swept it away with a quick swipe of the staff weapon. As he pointed the blazing end of the bo-rifle at the man who would murder his kin, his yellow-green eyes glared into the confused brown ones.

Hera was clear of the smoke now, by scrambling up the side of the hoverbus and taking advantage of its blocking the worst of it. Her watering eyes widened as she saw Zeb heading for Kallus on the ground, his bo-rifle pointed at him.

"Zeb!" she called again, hoping he'd rethink this if he took a moment away from whatever dark track his mind was following. She half-suspected he wasn't even fully on Kaller right now. Sabine and Ezra stayed still, blasters trained on Kallus, but both looking worried.

"Don't, Zeb," said Ezra suddenly. It was too much like the executions he'd seen over the previous couple of days. He really didn't want to see his friend act like the stormtroopers.

"Why do you hate me so much, Lasat? I have done nothing to you or your planet," Kallus asked, his voice calm although Zeb could see the alarm in his eyes.

"It's not what you've done, it's what you'll do," he said grimly, his finger twitching against the trigger as around him he smelled smoke and saw torn-up bodies and ruins. But he didn't draw down on it.

 _It's Kallus!_ His mind raged at him for his hesitation. _You know what he is, you know what he did! What he'll do…_ And that was a bit of a problem. Because the man he was about to execute for his acts hadn't actually committed them yet and currently wasn't even thinking about it. And as the red mist started to clear in front of the honest question, he too realised the similarities between what he was about to do and what the stormtroopers had done.

The other Specters watched the silent battle as the moment stretched. Then Zeb snarled and deactivated the bo-rifle, before clouting the man around the side of the head with it. Kallus slumped back to the ground.

Hera glanced at the hoverbus. Now also riddled with blaster-fire and the inside impregnated with eyewatering chemicals, it was even worse than useless.

"The speeders. Destroy what we don't need."

"Zeb!" Sabine, alarmed. Hera's eyes flashed back to the big Lasat in time to see him fall to a knee, using his hand to brace himself from falling further. She darted to him and groaned to herself as she saw the two blaster wounds in his back, afraid for what it could mean out here and now. They couldn't stay here, that was the first thing.

"I think I just made a kriffing mess of this," he muttered to her, fingers clenched around his bo-rifle on the ground.

"I can't argue with that, but we need to get out of here," she replied, aiming to get under his arm to help get him to his feet again.

"On the speeders? Frellit, Hera, I'm not going to be able to drive one. And I'm also the most recognisable –and- the one that actually assaulted the Imps." He hissed as his side started scorching in earnest now. Funny how the one that actually hurt most was that original shallow score compared to the two more serious injuries. "You three need to get out of here. You're not gonna be able to escape with me."

Hera growled under her breath at self-sacrificing (and/or guilt-ridden) bantha-drek and twisted herself neatly under his arm, straightening against him.

"Shut up and help me lift you, Zeb," she said shortly. "We're all getting out of here. You've just made it _harder_ –" She achieved her full height again, which was noticeably shorter than Zeb's, but it meant he was standing at least. "- but I don't know that I can blame you," she added more quietly.

Zeb stayed silent as Hera helped him over to one of the speeders, using his bo-rifle for support on the other side.

"Sabine, Ezra, take bikes and I'll take Zeb. We're going to have to make a straight shot of it now. Once they get word to the forest camp…" She helped Zeb onto the speeder, hoping that he wouldn't pass out on the road, because if he did, she was not going to be able to stop his fall. Of all of them to be injured, Zeb was definitely the most difficult to work with when it came to a quick escape. He was staying quiet, but she could tell he was in pain and trying not to show it, aware that he had endangered them all. She laid her hand on his arm for a moment before getting onto the speeder herself. Once he had a hold around her waist (if he fell off, there was every possibility he'd take her with him occurred to her), she set off, going as fast as she dared. It was faster than the _Smoothride_ at least. More or less. Sounds of metallic destruction behind her as Sabine and Ezra dealt with the remaining hoverbikes (and also a number of comm. devices amongst the fallen stormtroopers) before she heard the roar of their engines coming up behind her.

Now it was a race against time. And there was still the looming question that no-one had quite liked to ask yet. How _did_ they get home? The portal was in the future and on Belior IV; there was no physical manifestation of it here on Kaller. Kanan was - they hoped, and weren't really sure how it worked - keeping the link from now to then (or possibly vice-versa) open. But how were they to contact him? They were committed to going back to where they started from now though. And the other possibility - physically going to Belior IV and trying to find the blasted gate in the now - had just gotten a lot more difficult.

The speeders kept to the road as long as the riders dared. It meant going through populated places (relatively speaking), but they had to gain as much of a head start as possible before the alarm was raised. And Zeb wasn't getting any better. Hera had felt him start to slip a couple of times before he'd caught himself, the second time more sluggishly than the first. His arms around her waist for balance were also looser, and as the road worsened and climbed, that could be a problem.

"Zeb? You okay back there?" she called back against the whipping wind.

A pause and then a grunt. "Still here. Not used to being a passenger on one of these things."

 _I hope_ _we don't have to take to the forest or I don't know Zeb's going to stay on_ , she thought grimly as she stayed on the road, flanked by Ezra and Sabine _. And that we don't have the Grand Inquisitor next, because we're really getting low on firepower now_.

Their speeders roared through the dusk as the suns finally sank below the treeline. They'd been a full day-cycle on Kaller, and she was aware they'd been against the clock to start with, thanks to Kanan's original injuries. How long could he keep it open? She forced that thought away after a few moments as there was nothing she could do about it yet.

* * *

.

It was late in the twilight when they got close enough to see the village down amongst the trees below. Hera stopped her speeder.

"We have to walk from here," she said quietly as the other two also turned off the engines. Zeb used his bo-rifle as a support as he carefully got himself off the speeder, leaning heavily on it. He'd been very quiet the last hour or so, bar the odd suppressed noise of pain as they went over a pothole or root. Hera could tell that he was getting to the end of his tether and she took a quick glance over the land again to see how far they still had to go. Too far if they had to carry an injured Lasat. As she looked back, she could see Sabine roll a long branch in the top of her wrap and then lay it across the saddles of two of the speeders. She stared a moment before she caught on to what the girl was doing. Ezra had also caught on and found her another branch.

It took a few minutes, as speeder-bikes on rough ground weren't really the ideal means of support or transport for a stretcher, but with the aid of two wraps, several long sticks and their knives to make ties or notches to hold the thing together, they managed to jury-rig a sling of sorts between the two speeders. Sabine took one and Ezra the other, both "walking" them with the brakes off to allow for forward movement. Zeb gave the whole contraption a dubious look.

The first attempt to load him, the normal way, so he lay in the sling between the speeders, rapidly proved unworkable, as the weight dragged both speeders in and toppled them, Sabine and Ezra hanging on to try keep them upright. Zeb was sweating heavily by the time he was up again and carefully perched across them this time, sitting cross-legged, hanging onto the two saddles and using his upper-body strength to help keep them upright. It did give the impression of wheeling an ancient king around in his travelling throne, but at least he was mobile. He stayed carefully frozen, using his bo-rifle across his lap as an extra strut of support as the two teenagers started to move the contraption along. The branch wedged between the saddles at least helped keep it from falling over, but a wrong movement from Zeb, or the pair getting out of alignment, and it would probably all twist in on him.

Descending the hill was difficult, and Ezra and Sabine, either supported by Hera on more awkward patches as they needed it, were fighting gravity and their friend's weight all the way down.

 _At least the ground is dry and we have grip_ , thought Sabine wearily as she kept her arms locked against the speeder attempting to fold inwards. If there had been winter ice, autumn fallen leaves or even just rain, they'd all be at the bottom of the slope in a heap already. Zeb was being as silently helpful as possible. Passing out would really be preferable right now, but he was also very aware that he was by far the most difficult member of the group to move and also that a good portion of this was his fault.

 _And I didn't even get Kallus_ , he thought with disgust, catching his breath as his movement to catch a slipping strut and work it back into place pulled on his injuries.

They had to approach the original battlefield from the side, looping around and coming in from the far end of the field, furthest from the town. The darkening field stretched out in front of them, hulks of broken machines or the odd bit of armour or broken weapon sticking up from the grass. Hera pointed to a familiar silhouette, the tank they'd sheltered behind when they'd arrived. Which meant they'd come through the gate right around that completely empty patch of field just _there_.

Now what? The four of them looked at each other. There was certainly nothing visible to go through. Hera nodded them over towards the hulk and they tiredly wheeled the contraption over. It was just about possible to set the sling to the ground so Sabine and Ezra could rest their arms, with Zeb's head popping out between the two saddles.

"Can you try and reach Kanan from here, Ezra?" suggested Hera, looking at the empty patch of field that should hold…something. Ezra swallowed, but nodded. He really didn't want to be trapped here.

"I'll t-" He dropped the end of the last word, feeling it a bad omen, and then kneeled down, drawing out Kanan's lightsaber hilt to hold in his hands and facing the specifically-not-portal, closing his eyes.

The two women and Zeb watched him a moment, before Zeb looked at Hera. He could see she wasn't sure what was going to happen either. It was Sabine who was first to say it.

"What happens if we can't get back?" she asked quietly. No-one really had a good answer. No-one knew what "can't get back" meant for Kanan in the future either. Did it mean he was alive, and this thing was one-way, or they were too late, or had this been impossible all along? Hera found one and released a breath.

"If we can't, we need to get back to Plateau City and get to Belior IV. Which means we'll need our own ship." _Through an army of stormtroopers and Agent Kallus, who are now definitely looking for us. During the rise of the Empire. Right back through the dangerous ground and into the most dangerous place on this planet currently. With an injured Lasat who is now definitely a wanted criminal. Oh,_ goody _._

She watched Ezra as the boy tried to meditate, her anxiety making her impatient as he struggled to settle. Sabine had turned to keep her eyes towards the village, watching for any approach.

"Patrol," she said softly after a few minutes, nodding to a small moving mass of silhouettes making their walk around the field. They kept low, huddled into their shelter and hoped they'd pass by.

Kaller slipped away from Ezra's consciousness as he focussed on the Force connecting him to everything around him. He needed the _right_ connection though.

~ _Kanan?_ ~ he asked into the void, pushing the image of young Kanan – Caleb – out of his mind. He needed their Kanan, the adult on Belior IV, halfway across the galaxy. He didn't know if the Force connection could travel through time, but he reckoned he'd know if it had been broken. So he had to be able to follow it.

~ _Ezra?_ ~ His master's "voice", sounding distant and strained, as if calling from a long way away.

"Kanan!" Ezra spoke aloud in surprise, his eyes flickering but staying closed. Hera looked up in alarm. On the one hand, apparently he'd made contact, which was an incredible relief. On the other, there was now a stormtrooper patrol taking notice. They were still some distance away, but their path had definitely changed. She fingered her blaster's trigger again. Were they far enough from the camp for this?

Kanan's mental voice was urgent, sounding "nearer" and more focussed. _~Ezra! Stormtroopers! I can't stop them going through without letting it close on you! Are you close?~_

~ _We're coming, Kanan_ ,~ he promised swiftly, tensing as he received a flash of a vision. He wasn't sure if Kanan was sending it to warn him, or if he was picking it up unbidden, but for a moment he "saw" Belior IV, the temple grounds. Kanan was lying in front of the gate, which still showed greenish-brown trees. He couldn't move though, there were three stormtroopers on either side of him with their blasters trained on his back. Another four were in front of the gate, ready to go through. His eyes snapped open as he shook off the vision he'd already dreamed – seen? back on the verge when Sabine had woken him. He stayed stock still, trying to keep the link.

"Stormtroopers," he burst out. "I know where the portal is though." He kept his eyes focussed on one spot. "The stormtroopers are about to come through. They have Kanan. I'm going to lose this in a few moments though," he added, his voice more strained and he gripped Kanan's lightsaber in both hands.

 _I know there's stormtroopers, Ezra_ , thought Hera sharply, still looking at their own incoming problem. Then the rest filtered through and she mentally swore. Stormtroopers all over the kriffing place. She looked at Sabine and they pulled the speeder/stretcher-contraption up, taking a speeder each and revving the engines.

"I hope this works," said Sabine tensely, unable to see what they were aiming at herself, and having to balance with one knee onto the saddle, using her outside leg for balance. Hera, on the other side, did the same. To say this was unwieldy was putting it mildly. They were going to have to be perfectly synchronised and it was probably all going to end in tears anyway. Zeb made a mighty effort to lift himself, placing a hand behind them on the saddles and supporting his weight on them to reduce the drag pulling them together. He kept his knees as far apart as he could in the sling as another support to the speeders. This was not a comfortable position for a Lasat with several blaster holes in him though.

Blaster fire from behind, on the edge of range. Definitely noticed now. "Go!" Hera called and the two speeders shot forward, pulling the sling between them off the ground. Zeb hung on, slinging his bo-rifle onto his shoulder and loosing a couple of blind one-handed shots over it towards their pursuit. He growled under his breath.

Hera could see their target. Was that a puff of ash roiling just above the surface of the ground, catching on grass stems? Then a white boot protruded from the air ahead. Sabine saw it too and they held their course for it. Ezra was still frozen in position ahead, keeping his link to Kanan.

"Hera! Bear right and look out for Kanan!" Ezra shouted as they approached, over the roar of the motors and the blaster fire.

She and Sabine gunned it, hoping their precarious balancing act would last long enough (and neither would hit the archway itself). Hera reached out and snatched at Ezra, gripping his arm and yanking him across her saddle. Zeb hauled him to relative safety as the ridiculous set-up hit the portal and the stormtrooper just coming through, while blaster shots whined after them from behind.

The stormtrooper had no idea what hit him. The portal had closed around him, he'd felt something under his foot ahead and then apparently a cargo-ship crashed into his face. The stormtroopers were thrown back out of the portal like ninepins, scattering as a… _thing_ roared through.

The speeders had ramped off the steps as they hit Belior IV (and quite possibly over a stormtrooper to judge by the sudden jump on Sabine's side), and ploughed straight over Kanan and into the troopers on both sides of him. Zeb and now Ezra laid down cover fire, albeit not hugely accurate fire.

Kanan, on the ground, had a glimpse of Hera driving …something with Sabine, a heap of Specters piled around her, red and purple bolts strafing the ground beyond him. He ducked down against the ash as whatever it was roared over his head, Zeb's sling skimming over his back as he flattened himself to the ground, feeling the troopers on either side being peeled off as the speeders went right through both lines.

It all ended in chaos of course. The contraption could barely take being wheeled and it was down to both short distance and Hera and Sabine's skill that they'd kept it up driving. Using it as a battering ram did for it and Specters, bikes, branches and stormtroopers went in every direction.

And that was when the _Phantom_ dropped out of the sky and strafed the ground below. Kanan let his focus on the portal finally drop and it turned green-brown and started to swim again, cutting off the route to the past. He curled up as much as he currently could, protecting his head and using a fallen trooper for cover as the world continued to go mad around him.

 _ **Energy weapons + stormtroopers = glee!**_ ran Chopper's somewhat self-modified programming as he fired down on the white armour below. His calculations were good and as the Specters stayed low, he avoided them, spitting the ship's lasers around and through confused stormtroopers, who had gone from one injured and helpless captive to all hell breaking loose from every direction.

* * *

.

Silence descended. It was one of those silences when anyone capable is trying to work out if they're still alive before hitting the inevitable "I think therefore I am probably not in pieces". Hera reached the conclusion first and raised her head cautiously, hand curled around her blaster. She had been thrown clear of the inevitable speeder pile-up and landed uninjured, although someone – Ezra; she could see an orange leg - had been thrown across her. He rolled off as she scanned the fallen. No stormtroopers were moving at least. Sabine stirred, stunned from her own fall which had nearly mashed her head into the pillar that presumably still had an Inquisitor under it. Zeb wasn't moving and was tangled in the wrap and machinery.

Kanan had had a truly horrible day or so of it, and twenty-four hours of intense focus while increasingly traumatic memories of a life he hadn't lead poured through his mind, followed by capture and near-death while still dealing with semi-treated injuries was really enough to reach the limits of even Jedi endurance. He looked up as things calmed down finally, his ears still ringing from the speeder engines and the blaster shots raining down around them from the sky. An orange roughly Ezra-shaped smear hurtled towards him. Probably good.

"Great, you made it," he said to the world in general and then passed out. Ezra flailed a bit, although started to calm down once he realised they hadn't gotten back just in time for Kanan to die on them. He was still breathing, just unconscious. Although Ezra wasn't too keen of the colour of him. He looked over to where Hera and Sabine were working on Zeb.

.

The remaining Specters regrouped on the unconscious Zeb as they tried to free the big Lasat from the crumpled machinery. It took Sabine's knife and a lot of wrenching as the fronts of the bikes had gotten tangled and were speared together by a branch anyway. Fortunately, it hadn't gone through Zeb as well, and as the _Phantom_ landed in the arena behind them, they managed to free him, leaving the two heaviest members of their crew needing to be transported to the ship by two relatively slight teenagers and Hera. While all three were strong relative to their looks, none of them were built for weight-lifting and given they were all battered and exhausted by now, even Kanan was going to be a challenge, let alone Zeb. In the end, they rolled them inelegantly aboard on cargo transport hoverboards. Hera left Sabine and Ezra to get them to their cabins, which was probably the most comfortable place for either of them currently, and set to work getting them off this blasted planet.

* * *

 _._

::"Chopper, set the _Phantom's_ hyperdrive co-ordinates to Perosia. I'll pick you up when we arrive. Kanan and Zeb need bacta tanks now."

Irritated beeps enquired as to if Hera had hit her head. The _Phantom_ didn't have a hyperdrive so of course he couldn't.

:: "This is no time for games, Chopper," replied Hera sharply. ::"What are you talking about? It's how they _got_ here."

Chopper didn't agree and furthermore wanted Hera to have bacta treatment as well, or at least get her programming looked at.

::"Fine," she said darkly as thoughts of things being changed crept into her mind again. Although what they could have done to result in the _Phantom's_ hyperdrive being removed she had no idea.

So they had to take a bit more time as they lifted cautiously from the planet's surface. Chopper stayed directly above the temple in the lighter vessel and wasn't treated to the same bumpy ride that Kanan and Ezra had experienced originally. _Ghost_ followed them up, Hera turning over the shuttle as they entered space itself for the mother ship to gather its metallic (and hyperdriveless) chick.

Had it really only been sunset to sunset? The last day cycle felt like it had taken months. She hoped they weren't too late to help their injured friends. Kanan had been probably a day without proper medical treatment plus whatever had happened in the meantime and Zeb's wounds were serious.

Hera flopped back in the pilot's seat as she activated the hyperdrive, setting _Ghost's_ course back for the Perosian homeworld. The Empire was unlikely to look for them there. No-one went to Perosia if they could avoid it. _She_ wouldn't be going there except that it looked like they needed to call in that favour now for the sake of her two injured crewmates.

 _We didn't just survive the purge and stormtroopers from both kriffing timelines for either of you to conk out on me now_ , she thought, narrowing her eyes as the eerie silver-white glow of hyperspace lit up the cabin around her.

 _Hang on a bit longer_ , _both of you_.

* * *

.

 _I fully acknowledge the speeder bike sling was ridiculous. But seat-of-pants plans go, I reckon it was a fairly_ Star Wars _seat-of-pants plan!_

 _Also, hah, sorted out that original hyperdrive blooper :D_


	13. Chapter 13: Recovery - and Consequences

**Chapter 13. Recovery…and Consequences.**

 _Hyperspace, Ghost_

* * *

 _._

Hera glanced back as Sabine entered, the young Mandalorian looking as dragged out as Hera felt. "Zeb's in his bunk. I've done what I can for his injuries – and Kanan's. I think infection's starting though. Ezra's keeping an eye on them both."

Hera nodded, straightening up. "We'll be several hours getting to Perosia," she said. "I hope the Inquisitors haven't blocked off the path through the asteroid belt. But it's the closest safe place that we can get them treatment." She rubbed her head, feeling grit and scratches from overhanging branches. "Are you okay?"

Sabine nodded. "Got off lightly in the fall. No injuries."

Hera nodded too, although it hadn't quite been what she meant. But right now, she wasn't certain she was fine either; there hadn't exactly been much time to process what was going on over the last day either. And she wasn't going to be able to process it anyway while she waited to know if the two people she'd been longest with on the ship were going to be okay. She dropped a hand onto Sabine's shoulder as she passed, giving it a lightly comforting squeeze.

"Good idea bringing those wraps," she said. "Saved our lives several times over." Sabine smiled slightly at the acknowledgement and gave her a nod. Hera slipped out, going to hunt for her crewmates and reassure herself that both were resting and neither were in immediate danger.

* * *

.

They were on Perosia for several days, and Hera was only just starting to relax again as there was no signs of Imperial hunt for them here. Both men had needed bacta tank treatment; Zeb's blaster injuries had been deep and dangerously near vital organs and Kanan's shoulder and back were both showing signs of infection, probably due to the rolling in ash they'd taken along with the limited treatment. He'd stayed firmly unconscious though, although Ezra had hazarded hopefully that it might be partially reaction from the long period of intense focus.

Hera, Ezra and Sabine spent their time drifting between their injured colleagues and rather avoiding each other except at mealtimes. When two of them were in the same room as either Zeb or Kanan, first near the bacta tanks and then in their medbay beds, they stayed quiet, companionable, but very much in their own thoughts. There was too much to talk about, and yet something was still holding all three back from each other. Hera was least restrained, probably as she was most concerned about the younger two, especially Ezra. But both he and Sabine stayed out of sight most of the time.

The afternoon of the third day later was the first day that Zeb had woken up, and the drugs he was on had mumbled semi-coherently at Sabine for about a minute before letting him drop off again. He was at least definitely on the mend, although he'd need some more rest to let his injuries finish healing themselves after the bacta treatment. Hera had finally managed to evict Ezra from Kanan's small room, sending him off for something to eat with a promise that she'd be back in five minutes and would take over. Ezra left reluctantly, glancing back just in case Kanan chose right now to wake up, which he was sure he would do soon now that Zeb had awakened earlier. Hera considered trying to get through to him that Kanan was out of danger now and in no risk of suddenly dropping dead, but given she'd not succeeded on that front this morning, she probably wasn't going to now. Hera frowned after the teenager. Ezra's silence since they'd returned was unnatural for the normally-irrepressible fourteen-year-old. She took a look at Kanan, who was still out cold, although his colour at least looked a lot better (a healthier olive brown rather than any combination of the white, pink, blue-purple, green or red she'd mostly seen from him the last few days), and then vanished to the refresher, where she had been originally going. He'd be fine for five minutes.

She was about ten or fifteen minutes as it happened, due to the town commissioner wanting to enquire after their two injured crew as she courteously had each day they had stayed. They were quite popular here, not least as the nerf herd they'd delivered had calmed down and were settling into their new environment, and a surprising number of well-wishes had been delivered from the normally rather taciturn farming community, who weren't used to offworlders in general and usually steered clear. So all things considered, and especially now that both were out of immediate danger, it was best to be polite.

When she returned, telling herself that Ezra's anxiety was obviously catching and there was really nothing that could have happened to either patient in the medbay in the quarter-hour or so she'd been gone, she poked her head into Zeb's room. He was still there in his bunk, his chest rising and falling easily. A medical droid was checking his lines and she slipped out again. There were a few things that all of the Spectres, no matter how worried they were, knew their injured teammates would still prefer they weren't there for, and catheters was one of them.

And Kanan was gone. _**How**_ _? I was away for ten minutes and you just get up and go?_ She glared at the bed, feeling a mixture of annoyance and then worry. Assuming he had decided it for himself. She turned to scout for him, hoping she didn't run into Ezra, who might hit the ceiling.

She saw her target as she passed the door to the veranda that looped the building and she looked out. There was Kanan and she noted he'd managed to pull on pants and a loose tunic, although he was still barefoot. Figured. He wouldn't be seen dead in a med-gown if he had the remotest chance of avoiding it. _You better not have done yourself any damage dressing and sneaking out the moment everyone's back is turned_ , she thought, eyeballing the figure which was standing innocently outside enjoying his first fresh air in several days. She was just exiting the building, drawing in a breath to call to him, when an orange blur dashed past her and did a complicated move in mid-air as he launched at Kanan and then tried to control his landing before he flattened him. Somehow both stayed upright and Ezra hugged his master, again remembering just a bit late to be more gentle about it. He loosened his grip at Kanan's sharp breath and looked up.

"Sorry. Are you okay? What are you doing outside the medbay?" he asked in rapid-fire succession.

Kanan decided that sitting down might be the best option and cautiously seated himself against the wall of the building, his legs out straight on the veranda and keeping himself in the shade.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Medical droids were holding me prisoner is all."

"Yeah, because you have at least three injuries that I know about and two of them were infected," pointed out Hera, now standing beside them. Both Jedi jumped as she had managed to most unusually sneak up on them. Kanan grimaced, although whether it was from a twinge of pain or just being scowled at by Hera was hard to tell.

"Needed some air, Hera. And they're fine, just need to take it a bit easy for another day or so. I heal up quick. Is everyone okay? Droids weren't informative about the rest of you, bar complaints about visiting."

Hera let his escape go, sitting down cross-legged beside the pair.

"Zeb was injured, but he's recovering after bacta too. He got shot. Woke up this morning, but he's still resting."

"He'll be okay?"

Hera nodded. "Wouldn't have been without the Pelosians helping out," she conceded. "But he'll recover fully now. He's out of danger."

Kanan nodded, accepting this. He'd stick his head in and confirm for himself soon. He noted that Ezra, although keeping quiet, was also sticking close by him. He wasn't sure if that meant he'd been more sick than he thought he had, or if both of them had given the group enough of a scare that Ezra was nervy. Or the effects of the past few…days?

"How long have I been out?" he asked after a moment, rubbing his face again. Weird. He almost expected to feel sunburn.

"It's two days –no, this is the third evening since we got to Perosia. You've been unconscious more or less since Belior IV. Same with Zeb."

"Huh." Actually, that didn't surprise him too much. Injuries aside, he was only six months into restarting his own Jedi training and the full day of intense focus had been exhausting even without the rest of it. Probably not three-days-sleep worth of exhausting, but the injuries and treatment had added on.

"Hera! Kanan's gone!" An alarmed voice from the door before Sabine's head appeared, scanning around for a Spectre. She spotted the three of them and Kanan's sheepish wave.

"No panic. I removed myself. Wanted some air."

Sabine deflated with some relief. "Good to see you up, Kanan," she said with a smile. "Zeb up too, or-?"

"Still out, I checked on him a few minutes ago," replied Hera, patting the ground beside them as an invitation to join them. Sabine held up her mug.

"Tea?"

"Sounds wonderful," replied Hera, seconded by Kanan, who suddenly realised he was thirsty. Sabine vanished again.

The trio looked at each other. Ezra broke the silence. He'd let go of Kanan when they sat down, but was still staying near him. "So..uh... _Phantom_ no longer has a hyperdrive," he said.

"Ye-eah." Hera drew the word out. "Apparently we dropped you off before heading back to Perosia this time. I don't really want to ask how we managed before."

Sabine returned at that point with a tray. She handed out the various mugs and sat down herself. As she scanned over Kanan, the sun had crept up on him again and was now shining on his face.

"You have a scar," she said slowly. "On your cheek. I'm sure it wasn't there before Belior IV and you weren't injured in the face there."

Kanan took a mug as she set the tray down and raised an eyebrow questioningly at her, his fingers finding the long-healed ridge of skin. "Yeah? Fell through a window once."

He wondered why they were staring at him.

"What?" Slowly he reorganised that in his own head and frowned. "Ah. Yeah. I fell through a window fifteen years ago, but also haven't had it for the past fifteen years."

"But... just the scar, right? And…uh… picking you up?" Sabine sounded hopeful. "Nothing else changed… too much?" There didn't seem to be too much difference she'd seen so far. Except the _Phantom_ and none of them had any explanation as to how that had happened*.

"Ye-ah," he said finally. "Things were different that time."

"Sorry, Kanan. We had to pick up Caleb on the road with the Inquisitor chasing him down," admitted Hera. "That must have changed some things for you. We hoped you – he – wouldn't remember us when we started collecting after Gorse."

"No-o, I didn't remember you on Gorse." He drew out the first word carefully. "I was sorta present for all that, insofar as I was getting all these memories, presumably as they happened for you." And it was a tangled mess he hadn't had time to sort through yet. "I remembered you from then only today, like it was buried or something. Er, whatever day it was."

"What happened to Mira originally?" asked Ezra cautiously. He grimaced. "Sorry Kanan, I guess you don't really want questions about it after all that."

He didn't. But it was a fair enough question. He shifted against the wall.

"I don't know," he replied. "I never met her the first time. I took a route through the swamps and avoided the patrols until I got to the city. I don't know what happened to Tix either. There were holoimages for her one day and then they stopped." _Poor kid. Kids. What did happen to you, Tix?_ _All I know is that you didn't escape._ He glanced at Ezra. "I know Master Jhesa was killed on the northern road, I heard in the city he'd been shot off his speeder."

Ezra nodded, rubbing his nose to cover a glance away. The sight was still bothering him.

"Maarje. Her name was Maarje, by the way. Picked Mira out of the air, same as Canan."

"Was she even on the planet then?" wondered Ezra. "Or because none of us were in the forest, they caught her there?" Sabine and Hera exchanged glances, remembering the scene as the two stormtroopers prepared to execute the small child.

 _There was an explosion and I ran away_. Kanan recalled the words in the small voice and frowned to himself. He wasn't sure what the Spectres had seen before they'd found them on the roadside.

"That's where it started to diverge," he said slowly. "There was an explosion behind us – a platoon was circling behind. The first time, we felt them closing and fought through it, Master Billaba created a path. This time something happened. Maarje said on the road that she'd seen an explosion after she escaped the medtent where they executed Master Kuso. She ran away from it. I think the first time she came out right into the stormtroopers. I doubt she ever escaped the camp." He rubbed his face. "This time, I met her in the woods. Couldn't take the swamps with the kid, so took the roads and eventually ran into you."

Hera looked at Sabine, who had turned rather pale as the extent of her interference became apparent.

"I'm sorry. That was me," she said in a low tone. _And that put you both together and then she was executed anyway_. So overall, she'd made it worse.

Kanan looked over at Hera. "You were there?" he asked rather guardedly.

Hera took the bantha by the horns and gave him a quick overview of how they'd arrived into the battle, the Inquisitor and their watch from the hills, up to Mira's appearance in the forest and Ezra's leading the Inquisitor off. Kanan stayed quiet during it, sipping his tea, fairly expressionless. While he'd known they'd see far more of his early life as Kanan than he was comfortable with, knowing that beforehand and seeing the results were two different things. He'd carried the guilt of what happened to Master Billaba for years and he'd had no intentions of talking about it with any of them. Although there was always the possibility Ezra would ask one day. In an indirect way, it was part of his history too.

Ezra glanced to the side, and felt a chill at the unreadable expression which right now reminded him more of the boy back on Kaller than the man he knew. It wasn't that Kanan never did that, just… he wondered suddenly had they even come back to the right Kanan, or had their changes changed him too. It was an unnerving thought.

Kanan exhaled after a moment, glancing to Ezra. "Good work," he said. "That was quick thinking. And it was probably as well that you picked us up. Between being on the road and the Inquisitor, something would probably have caught us. I stayed well off the beaten path last time. And at that point I didn't know what that …" he glanced from Hera back to Ezra. "The "cold" feeling meant." He knew that Ezra at least would understand the clumsy description. Ezra did, the others less so, although the non-Force sensitives had long since picked up that they were applying a word to something they didn't have words for in Basic.

"You felt it in the alley?"

"There, and in the house before I left to try get us passage at the spaceport." He exhaled at that, the rush of memories flooding back again, over-riding earlier memories, the experiences that had originally shaped him. "Recognised it in the alley from the house. He must have been watching us. Don't know why he didn't just kill us then."

"That was sorta Ezra," said Hera, glancing to Sabine again, who was staying dead silent. Kanan hadn't particularly acknowledged her apology and she wasn't sure how much he was blaming her for what had happened since. "The Inqusitor had wanted to hunt you in the woods but Ezra leading him off upset those plans. He had another target in the city, and felt…well…that setting the stormtroopers on you both would be a lot worse for you and save him the trouble."

"He was a creep," put in Ezra feelingly.

"Ye-" Kanan broke off the word as he finally associated the Inquisitor on Belior IV fully with the Inquisitor that had menaced him fifteen years ago in the right order this time. "…Asshole, he was deliberately quoting himself from the future at me," he said with some irritation at the realisation. He absently fiddled for a padawan braid that he'd not worn in a decade and a half, before smoothing back his hair as he realised what he was doing.

"I'm sorry we couldn't help Mira- Maarje," said Hera after a moment, her mind still caught on the child. "We searched for her when we realised the Inquisitor had given your position to the stormtroopers. We couldn't find her."

"Yeeah. And then it turned out we were on top of your hideout," said Ezra rather darkly.

Kanan stayed quiet a moment. "I'm sorry I couldn't help her either," he said finally. "I didn't want to leave her, but I didn't dare bring her with me to try sort out transport off-planet without Hera as cover for her. I didn't understand what the Force was trying to tell me when the Inquisitor was close."

"You did everything you could," Hera pointed out gently. She knew he already had guilt over Master Billaba. The last thing he needed was an added load of guilt about Mira.

"If she hadn't died in the house, we probably both would have at the spaceport," he said with a tired shrug. "Looking back on it now, and I think I even knew it then – keeping someone as recognisable as a Twi'lek child safe wouldn't have worked in the early days of the Purge. I wouldn't have abandoned her, but I doubt we'd have survived more than a few days. It was difficult enough as a lone human boy to get somewhere I wasn't too noticeable. Maarje would have attracted attention over most of the galaxy."

 _What in the galaxy did I start?_ thought Sabine, her skin flushing hot and cold at the implications. _I thought I was just buying them a few moments head start, warning them about the troops behind. Instead…_ Instead she'd accidentally saved the little Twi'lek's life and brought her and Kanan together. And if it wasn't for the Inquisitor's evil interference afterwards, she'd probably ultimately be responsible for both their deaths at the hands of the stormtroopers. Kanan still hadn't acknowledged her directly. She sipped her tea for something to do with her hands and wished she'd controlled her impulse on the ridge.

"You said you spent days in the city the first time," said Hera carefully, partially feeling that Kanan's point had well and truly been gotten over to the Mandalorian girl, and partially wondering what else they'd changed. "I guess that means that the flight you got off the planet wasn't the same one. How long do the differences go on? I remember meeting you on Gorse still."

"No, it wasn't…but things did realign themselves. I escaped with Corven, who almost certainly knew what I was, but apparently didn't care too much. He dumped me off on the next planet. I met Janus Kasmir there. Things…took a similar path after that. I stole his ship, flew to Coruscant, got Obi-Wan Kenobi's beacon message, came out of hyperspace into a blockade and jumped back straight back again. Eventually ended up working with Kasmir for a bit, until we ran into Kleeve. He sold me out both times too." _And the whole thing on the ship happened the second time too,_ he thought, still trying to rationalise his memories. There were points that were a bit jerky, as if people had made decisions that they mightn't have otherwise made. _Timeline forcing itself back into place?_ He supposed that if it was a case of the galaxy being destroyed (or whatever actually happened with a temporal paradox) versus his memories being completely kriffed, the choice was a pretty straight-forward one for the timeline or the Force or whatever made it.

"Sold you out?" Hera was interested, hearing what had happened after to the boy whose life they'd interacted with for a day, saved from deadly peril (apparently also added significantly more peril to) and then left on his quest to the even more dangerous Coruscant. She wrapped her arm around her knee, surprised that Kanan was even telling them this much. Perhaps because they'd already seen so much of it now.

"Yeah. Well, the first time, I had stolen his ship. And then followed him around until I could save him – which I did, and then he blamed me for losing his new hires, and took me on. Which was sorta my general aim. So overall, I can't really be surprised that he sold me to Tapusk for the bounty first chance he got. Then he rescued me, which was more surprising. Worked with him for about a year after that. He was a decent guy." _I punched him both times too. Kinda regret that I didn't_ not _do it at least one of them_.

"Kleeve? The Separatist general?" Sabine spoke up for the first time, looking bemused. "I know of him. Thought he died at the end of the war?"

"Neither time." Kanan finally answered the girl directly. "Kasmir had gotten in contact with him after his escape from us on Kaller and brought me in. Our first meeting …didn't go too well." His lip quirked at the memory. "I nearly shot him. He finally convinced me that the war was over and neither of us had won, which was true enough. I don't know what happened to him in the end, he worked with Kasmir for a bit anyway."

"What happened with Grey and Styles?" Ezra wasn't certain how far he should push, but Kanan was unusually open right at the moment, and if he didn't ask now, he suspected he never would.

Kanan paused a moment before answering. Yep, even now, their names still made his skin crawl. "They continued the hunt after that first rescue. Caught me again in the end. I escaped, Kasmir and Kleeve picked me up, Grey and Styles were killed in the fight." Without intending it, there was a note of finality to that sentence that indicated that topic was closed off. There was something niggling at him about it. Something wrong, another bit of remembering two conflicting pasts. And it wasn't something he wanted to explore.

Ezra hesitated, as he'd definitely noted the shut-down. Kanan glanced over as he could sense the kid wanting to ask something. Ezra darted to a safer subject, although it was also something he did want to know.

"Uh - in the alleyway, do you remember deflecting at the Inquisitor?"

"Uhm… not really. I had a flash of knowledge that the bolt was incoming from the blue blur down the alley. I thought it was Tix."

Ezra glanced at Hera.

"Tix was killed before you woke up. The Inquisitor stabbed her," said Hera gently.

"But she'd Pulled her saber and ignited it through herself into his leg. It weakened him enough that we were able to take him down before the stormtroopers arrived," finished, the teenager sounding both still horrified but also impressed by it.

 _Ah Tix, you always did catch it the wrong way,_ thought Kanan. It was both near and far away at this point. He'd mourned Tix and many others in the years since Order 66 and her "second" death was upsetting, but not devastating. But while he'd never know what happened to his childhood friend the first time around, he was 'glad', if that was the right word, that she'd had a chance to show her courage and willpower – and make a difference - at the moment of her death, rather than being blasted to bits in the road.

Kanan was first to break the silence. "…Actually, none of that made much sense to me. I knew the bolt was coming, deflected it, then something threw me…the Inquisitor appeared, Tix and the Inquisitor were dead in the alley and I got the hell out of there." He frowned. "I obviously missed a few steps."

"I fired at Ezra, who deflected the bolt to you, and you sent it into the Inquisitor's side. Sabine jumped on him and shoved an explosive down his robes, Zeb snatched you into shelter and the Inquisitor blew up," filled in Hera with a smile. "You blasted Zeb out into the opposite wall and fled."

"The yellow-eyed clawed thing was Z-" Oh. Actually, that made sense. "Huh. Well, as far as I was concerned, the city seemed to be full of yellow-eyed clawed things trying to kill me." He scratched his short and currently three-days-unkempt beard, absently straightening it. "I guess I owe him an apology. Fifteen years later."

There were general exchanges of glances amongst the other three. Kanan raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"About that. Something else happened that... might have had consequences."

"Like planet-wide broadcasts," mumbled Ezra, although he decided to stay out of it as Kanan glanced at him.

"We hit another checkpoint on the way back to the camp. And we ran into Kallus."

Kanan's eyes widened in surprise at that. "You ran into _Kallus_? Of all the frelling luck.." he said wonderingly. "I didn't even know he was on that planet."

"Yes... Zeb held it in for a bit, but Kallus said something that set him off and he tried to kill him. That turned into a firefight and we escaped on their speeders. Zeb was shot during it."

"He defeated Kallus, could have killed him, but didn't," said Sabine.

Kanan frowned as he looked at the building opposite. He had no idea what that might have done. Maybe it had done nothing.

"I've scanned over our logs of the times we've encountered him. I don't see anything different," said Hera. She shrugged. "But I don't know if there's a land mine out there."

"Lasan was wiped out fairly early in the war," he said after a moment. "Same as the Kallerans didn't like being messed about with by the Separatists and then claimed by the Empire, nor did Lasan. So the Empire made an example of it. Even back then, they were brutal with the non-Humans."

Hera knew that already, although the younger two probably didn't. But he had taken that fairly calmly. _At least_ that _interference presumably didn't give him another shot of someone else's memories_ , she thought. That had been a consequence none of them had foreseen. She hoped he'd relax with Sabine soon though. Sabine had thoroughly taken her role in things on board and was as shaken as the rest of them were.

Kanan actually wasn't sure how to take that news. It might either end up nothing in particular, or there could be something completely unforeseen incoming as a result of Zeb attacking Kallus in the past. But he'd also more or less just woken up, and hadn't really had time to process everything that had happened yet. He straightened up, feeling he'd done about as much sharing as he was willing for his first time up and wanting to be solitary for a bit to work things out for himself. It would be unreasonable to expect them not to have questions and, touchy topics like Grey and Styles aside, he would probably answer them. Just maybe after he'd had chance to straighten things out himself.

"Going to head back to the _Ghost_ , I don't need to be in the medcenter anymore," he said with a casual nod to the group. "Thanks for the tea, Sabine." Yeah, he probably needed to stop taking it out on her as well. She had been trying to save their lives. Although what part of not getting involved she'd reckoned an explosive was… She looked up, still looking rather hangdog and nodded.

"No problem. Glad you're doing better, Kanan." Her words and the small smile were both sincere and he gave her a smile back. He wasn't entirely okay with it yet, but of all the things to be angry about regarding the situation, Sabine wasn't one of the really deserving targets.

"Go do the polite first, Kanan. They've been good to us. Zeb's still unconscious." Hera smiled over at him as Kanan made his overture. Kanan acknowledged that with a nod.

"'Course. I'll even sign out with a name I don't make up on the spot."

Before she'd quite decided how to reply to that, he was gone again, ruffling Sabine's black-and-white hair as he passed. She ducked too late but was smiling as she smoothed it back down, relieved that things were good between them again.

Ezra also got up. He'd been quiet for the past few minutes and looked a bit lost in thought.

"I'm going to go back to the ship too," he said. "I was down here most of the day."

Hera nodded with a smile to him, seeing he did look tired. He just had refused to acknowledge it while he was still worried about the two in the medcenter. She also strongly suspected that the padawan had a few Jedi things he also wanted to sort out with his master, and hoped that they'd both let each other get some sleep soon.

* * *

.

 _This chapter has been a menace. Everyone apparently wants to talk to each other, and it needed ruthless trimming. It's still ended up as a two-parter._

 _TBC: (Chapter 14) Epilogue_


	14. Epilogue: Conversations

**Chapter 14/Epilogue**

 **Conversations.**

* * *

 _._

As it turned out, Kanan didn't get back to the ship for a while. He'd looked in on Zeb, and then decided to stay for a bit. Hera, Ezra and Sabine had all looked tired. And of course he knew why, because the same thing happened whenever any of them were injured, particularly if they were in safe territory. With two of them injured, he suspected the hovering rotas had been full on the heels of a stressful mission. If any of them looked in and saw he was there, then someone was with Zeb. And if he was meditating, even Hera wouldn't disturb him to throw him out. Probably. If he didn't push it too far.

He settled down on the floor near the wall, visible from the door but out of the way of medical droids and sought his connection to the Force that would help ground him so he could sort his mind and memories out.

* * *

.

It was two or three hours later that Kanan got back to his cabin, Hera having popped her head in and then indeed thrown him out. He smiled slightly to himself as he padded through the _Ghost's_ corridor. Actually, although the thought would have horrified the man he'd been before he met Hera on Gorse, he liked that they were all concerned enough about each other to hover now. He liked that he was part of a family that did care about each other. Okay, that lead to the potential of loss, which he'd fled when he left Kasmir and Kleeve all those years ago and hadn't really picked up again until he'd let himself get fond of an old miner on Gorse, which had ultimately ended up with his meeting Hera.

His cabin would be a welcome refuge. It had a bed in it, and more importantly, _his_ bed in it. Very little else, but he'd never needed much. He'd arrived onto _Ghost_ with his backpack and his belongings could still be packed into it, even if he had no plans of a sudden departure. But he appreciated having a space in the _Ghost_ that was his own.

He entered without turning on the light and moved to a small built-in locker, crouching to unlock it and check his lightsaber hilt and holocron were there. They were, Ezra had returned them then. He took out the holocron, sitting back on his heels with it and focussing. It cast blue-toned shadows around him as it lit and started to open, the pieces of the intricate puzzle shifting. A few moments later, Master Obi-Wan appeared.

The stark warning addressed itself to the small cabin. Kanan watched the man speaking, lost in thought for a few minutes as he remembered seeing it for the first time on the _Kasmiri_ , just before he dropped out of hyperspace into the Imperial trap. He wondered had Master Kenobi's desperate message saved any more Jedi. _Was it worth it, if only one survived?,_ he wondered. He had no idea what it had ultimately cost the Jedi master to change the beacon. No-one had heard of him since the Fall and he didn't appear to be being actively hunted. Kanan had to assume he'd died there. He let the holocron close and then felt someone nearby.

Kanan started around tensely, his hand seeking the lightsaber hilt in the drawer, wary after the last few days. His eyes met two rather sleepy blue ones in the shadows and he blinked as he noted that, firstly, his bed was occupied and secondly, that it was Ezra curled up at the bottom of it, extremely well-disguised as a blanket. _Although_ _I must be tired if I didn't notice that bump on it_ , he told himself. He let the lightsaber hilt fall back into its drawer and released his tense breath.

"Sorry. I…uh…was returning your lightsaber. And I thought you'd be back in a few minutes. I guess I dozed off." Ezra slid off the bed, having some trouble untangling himself from a large brown thing. Kanan squinted at it in the half-darkness and then raised the lights a bit.

"Huh… I thought something was missing from the drawer, but I hadn't quite placed it." _Great, another of those is it/isn't it things_ , he thought absently as he looked at the travelling wrap he'd eventually left Kaller with. It had been… Hera's, he thought, originally.

"Yeah. I didn't expect to see that there. You kept it then?" Kanan picked it up as Ezra finally managed to escape and held it up a moment.

"Yeah, it saw some adventures. Replaced it eventually. When it was no longer possible to make it look respectable. Probably not much point returning it to Hera in this state."

The two Jedi inspected it. While it had been originally of a heavy brown wool, treated against water, it was threadbare in places now and didn't look like it would keep off much of anything. It also had a number of patches and a couple of blaster holes in it. With the brighter light, the threadbare bits and the patches showed up noticeably, as did a number of stains.

"Don't think anyone's going to get any use out of it at this point," agreed Ezra after a moment. Although it had worked quite well as a blanket. He watched Kanan refold it and replace it in the drawer, noting that while it wasn't obviously a Jedi anything, he still placed it with his Jedi artifacts.

"So why are you skulking on my bed anyway?" asked Kanan. "'Cause I warn you, I'm planning to use it any moment."

"I wanted to talk to you about something. But it's kinda late now and you should sleep. Hera'd say as much."

"She would." He sat down on the bed, leaning against the wall. "But since she just kicked me out of Zeb's room to take watch down there, it's safe enough. What is it?"

Ezra hesitated. "It's just… I had a vision. Two of them, I guess, although I didn't realise the first was."

Kanan tilted his head questioningly. It wasn't unusual for even quite young padawans to start having flashes of visions as well as foresight – it was more unusual when they kept up, or they were able to control them. But it was a sign that Ezra was becoming more attuned to the Force.

Ezra absently pulled up a bit of blanket, fiddling with it between his fingers with nervous movements. "The first was when we were asleep. I thought it was a bad dream. You know, mixing around all the stuff we'd seen. But I had it again just before we came back through the portal. I saw what was going on on the other side of the portal, and knew it was real that time."

Kanan considered this for a moment. "When did you see the vision first?", he asked.

"I guess it was about the middle of the day. We'd stopped due to the heat. Maybe early afternoon?"

Kanan nodded. "Stormtroopers arrived not long before you did. So you were seeing a vision of the future." He considered this again. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah." Ezra pulled at the blanket again. Kanan could tell something was particularly bothering his padawan, but not quite what it was.

"I thought they were going to shoot you, and we'd be too late," burst out Ezra after a moment. The vision had unsettled him, but not until after, when he'd had time to think about it and remember his dream from earlier. But given Master Jhesa, given the woman in the market, given Mira, that image of Kanan on the ground surrounded by stormtroopers had all too easily loaned itself to what could have happened next. He wasn't quite sure what he'd do to force the nightmares he'd been having from various points of the journey away now that the two injured were mending and no longer a convenient distraction from sleep.

 _Ah_. Kanan thought about what had been happening at his side of the portal and, given he'd made all the same connections at the time, saw exactly what was upsetting the boy.

"Ye-eah. From the very start, they were pretty wary of what Jedi could do. The clones, well, they had seen what Jedi could do. I guess the stormtroopers carried it on. But they weren't going to shoot me." _Not right then, anyway_. "They needed me to keep the portal open too. If I hadn't heard from you soon, I'd have had to close it rather than let them get loose in the past as well." _At that point, they might have shot me._ He decided not to include that bit.

Ezra could put that together just as well anyway. He exhaled. "I didn't realise how much they hate us," he said quietly. "I mean, yeah, they try to kill us, but it's not like that."

Kanan shrugged. "It faded off over the years. The first few years were much like that. I think it was as the clones were faded out and replaced. The Empire was still brutal with the odd Jedi they caught after that though." _Especially around Empire Day. Really added to the festivities, executing one._ He looked at the kid, who looked troubled.

"You're right though, it's not like that anymore. There's so few of us for a start that there's no need for that sort of sweep. And now they do it as a job more than so..uh…vindictively. But that aside, there's a way out of that situation. Just those that got caught back then were mostly taken by complete surprise and cut down by friends. I'll show it to you tomorrow. It's what I would have done if I'd had to shut down the portal."

Ezra nodded relaxing a bit. He pushed a hand through his hair. "Yeah, thanks. It feels frelling helpless."

"Mhrm." It did, and it hadn't done his nerves any good either, caught up as he was between the events of fifteen years before still happening to him and the stormtroopers around him. Being pinned in a circular firing squad could easily have been now or then or both. "Force-push," he added, to ease the kid's mind more that that situation didn't inevitably lead to death.

"Huh?" Ezra looked over.

"Force-push. Is the way out of it. Circular firing squads are deeply impractical." He mimed a push outwards to either side of him.

Ezra blinked a few times. Now that he thought of it, it was obvious. "Oh. Uh…yeah, that does help."

He nodded. "Master Billaba was taken by surprise – and she was blocking Styles' shot on me when she fell. Master Jhesa was thrown from his speeder and they probably shot him where he fell. Master Kuso was lying injured in a medcentre bed. Mira…" He didn't even finish that. "And the woman in the marketplace wasn't a Jedi. You saw some of the worst of it, but they got lucky several times."

Kanan crossed his legs under himself, looking at the back of the kid's head. He could see Ezra was still troubled. He couldn't blame him, really. He'd was six months into training and had just gotten an eyeful of what the Empire thought of Jedi, far more brutally than the tag-ends that still continued now.

"You said about them hating us. You're right - it showed through the clones. Whatever made them act like that, there was real hatred behind it. But the Jedi were wiped out because we were the protectors of the Republic. We couldn't protect it from a military coup as it turned out. But the Emperor knew that the Jedi would never turn against the Republic in …whatever way he made the clones turn. I've often thought about how he ended up like he is now, that twisted face you saw in the holoimage. I suspect Jedi did know that the Grand Chancellor was going do this, to overthrow the Republic. I think they tried to stop him and failed, and that's why all of them had to die." He shrugged. "I have no evidence for it, just an idea. Doubt we'll ever know now."

"And now there's two Jedi but no Republic to protect anyway," said Ezra after a moment.

"Still a galaxy out there. And people that need help under the Empire. But that's what the history of the Jedi Order was, protection. Not sure I ever really explained that to you. It was a bit of a moot point since we found you. Or so I thought, anyway."

"Or since I was born. But… yeah. I follow. Although one thing I don't get."

Kanan gave his pillow a longing look from the corner of his eye. He wanted a closer relationship with it and soon. _My dear young strategist, this is the Force repaying all your questions to me._ An amused voice. He had just imagined it, of course. It wasn't really Depa Billaba talking to him. But he could feel the amusement she would have if she'd thought of her padawan being pestered with questions by his own student. Well, one thing he could do to honour his master was show the same patience with Ezra that she had shown him. He glanced over, nodding for him to continue.

"Why did the Grand Chancellor overthrow the Empire? He was the leader of the Republic, wasn't he? So couldn't he do as he liked anyway?"

Well, this was at least a fairly easy one. Kanan had known instantly what it meant back then. But then, he'd been trained in history, politics, diplomacy and warfare from as soon as he was old enough to understand. To Ezra, a galactic ruler was…well, what he'd known in a practical sense all his life. There had been his parents and he'd had better chance than most of being taught that this wasn't how it had always been, but he'd still been a kid when he'd lost them and had years on the street of it just not being relevant to him. It had stayed more relevant to Kanan, although he'd long ago lost track of exactly who was in charge of what and just how dangerous they were.

"Not as Grand Chancellor. The Republic didn't work the same way as the Empire. The Grand Chancellor was very powerful, but he was constrained by the Senate. Moderated his voice.

"So that's why he had to overthrow the Republic. He was turning it into a totalitarian, expansionist regime, completely dominated by his will in a way that the Republic could never have been. It was set up _not to be_ run like that."

Ezra listened, although he raised his hand at the end. "Totalitarian?"

"Uh… totally dominant. The Empire answers to the Emperor and him alone. Oh, the Senate still exists, somehow, but it's toothless. He has the military and the Galactic economy, and that's really the important bits."

"Right..." Ezra looked a bit flattened by it all, which was about what he felt. He knew some of this, but he'd known it from the perspective of a small child, back when his parents sent secret messages of hope to the galaxy, hoping themselves that the right ears would hear it and the wrong ears wouldn't find them. Some of the connections he hadn't made. Then he'd had to run away and survive. Ancient history just wasn't important on the streets of Lothal. Possibly the older members of the crew wouldn't appreciate fifteen years being called "ancient history" he thought with a quirk of his lips which vanished again as he thought about it. He stood up.

"Thanks, Kanan. I should let you get some sleep though. It's late."

"No problem, kid. Meditate for a while before sleeping. It helps." He'd read between the lines that Ezra was having nightmares. It was hardly a new thing on the ship, and his padawan had gained a lot of fodder for them.

Ezra nodded. "Got it. G'night."

"'Night, Ezra." When the kid had gone, Kanan finally got to reclaim his bed and lay down with a groan. His back had just started aching again. The bacta had done its work, and his enhanced healing would do the rest, but it was a warning not to push his luck in the meantime.

* * *

.

The _Ghost_ sped through space, on its way back to Lothal. They all needed a break for a few days to recover physically and mentally. Zeb had been released, mostly _compos mentis_ , although it had taken a while for the drugs to wear out of his system (the Perosians had had to make a bit of a guess with Lasan physiology and had been oddly wary of him with the bacta), and he was inclined to zone out on them. He'd spent much of the last day or so in his room, presumably sleeping them off.

Ezra was, rather unusually, sitting in Sabine's little cabin, leaning against one wall while she painted on another. He was holding the holocron absently, switching his attention between what she was working on and the little device. Ezra was finding his mere existence appeared to be annoying Zeb and he wasn't particularly sleepy anyway. It wasn't very often that Sabine let people into her space, especially when she was working, but right at the moment, they were finding a certain peaceful solidarity in each other's company. Neither was inclined to talk much, but they were able to be solitary together. Sabine had washed down where she wanted to paint something that expressed what she felt that words wouldn't. It was a bit out of the way, near the floor, as she suspected it wasn't going to be something she'd want to look at too often. Everything relating to the last few days was dark. She flicked away a hair that was falling over her forehead as she heard a clicking sound behind her. It broke her thought process and she glanced around, irritated. Her attention was caught by the holoimage of the elder in Jedi robes.

" _This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. I regret to report that both our Jedi Order and the Republic have fallen, with the dark shadow of the Empire rising to take their place. This message is a warning and a reminder for any surviving Jedi: trust in the Force. Do not return to the Temple. That time has passed, and our future is uncertain. Avoid Coruscant. Avoid detection. Be secret... but be strong. We will each be challenged: our trust, our faith, our friendships. But we must persevere and, in time, I believe a new hope will emerge. May the Force be with you - always."_

For a moment, Ezra felt himself back on Kaller, his mind easily able to see it as if for the first time during the crisis, as the Order fell and Master Kenobi gave a desperate warning to any Jedi that might still live that the beacon guiding them home was a trap. He blinked once or twice, looking around and reassuring himself that he was safely on _Ghost_. Then he looked over at what Sabine was working on.

Sabine had started painting soon after Obi-Wan had started speaking. Ezra saw an outline of the exploded holocron start to form under her fine brush and shifted his legs under himself to meditate on the real one. It seemed a good time anyway, and it would keep it open for her if she needed the reference. It took him a little while to settle as always, but once he did, he felt the Force connection as strongly as he had in any of the training sessions, and considerably more than in some of them when he'd been impatient; too full of energy or the need to speak.

.

When he opened his eyes, he felt an odd combination of physically tired but mentally more refreshed. Sabine had been working while he was not watching and he saw her thoughts reflected in her work.

The image of the holocron she had been starting was now fully-formed in its exploded state, the space between the separate pieces a soft blue. Around and behind the holocron was her favoured phoenix, the _Ghost's_ symbol, only the wings were dipped, curving around and sheltering the device. She had settled herself to paint the intricate designs threading the holocron's surfaces and was thoroughly absorbed in it. She certainly hadn't noticed he was watching her work yet.

Ezra leaned back against the wall with a slight smile forming. It was comforting that even when really _weird_ Jedi stuff happened, and even though the Empire apparently wanted him and Kanan dead in a way that he'd not entirely understood before now, the _Ghost_ was still with them. Ezra had spent a long time alone, and had been used to relying on himself. Turned out it was much the same for Kanan. But they were no longer alone. The Empire might hate them, but didn't mean that the galaxy did.

* * *

.

Bad dreams weren't uncommon. They all had plenty of fodder for nightmares, whether from their time before the _Ghost_ or from various of their rougher missions. Kanan had meditated when sitting with Zeb, but the conversation had disturbed his mind again and along with his body's natural sleep cycle being all over the place, he'd had one bad dream after another until he'd finally woken with a start and a tangle of blanket.

He lay still as his mind caught on to his body being awake, not really sure when or where he was for a moment. He figured out the where fairly rapidly at least, although when took longer. He confirmed the where anyway by reaching up and brushing his fingers along where the bunk above was folded against the wall. Right. Timewise, he was okay down to the year at least, but he had no idea of the hour and he was still a bit hazy on the day. Kanan rubbed at his face, feeling wide awake enough to decide it was probably the day part of the _Ghost's_ cycle and got up, defeating the entangling blanket after a short struggle and pulling on enough loose clothing to be respectable at least.

Outside, the feel of the ship made him realise rapidly that he'd entirely misjudged the time. He made a face, but headed to the common room anyway, mulling something to drink. There were teas anyway. And maybe it would relax him enough to go back to bed. He padded down to the main room, and was surprised to see a low light emitting from it.

Zeb was sitting at the table with mug of tea in front of him. He didn't seem to think much of it, but was drinking it anyway. The Lasat glanced up with a glower as he felt someone at the door but focussed it elsewhere on seeing who it was. He grunted a general acknowledgement of Kanan's existence that wasn't entirely unwelcoming.

"Thought you were the kid," he rumbled after a moment.

"Ezra bothering you?" Kanan headed over to put water on to heat.

Zeb shrugged. "Eh. Nah, not really. Just wanted to be on my own for a bit. Kid's …there, you know? All orange energy and noise." Well, that wasn't absolutely true at the moment, but given Zeb was in full solitary mode, Ezra _breathing_ was enough to get on his nerves.

Kanan nodded. He knew Zeb well at this stage and could see the Lasat was withdrawn into himself. The drugs in his system had been about fifty per cent excuse to keep to himself for a bit. Kanan didn't blame him. He was much the same himself at times. And as fond as he was of Ezra, he suspected that he and Ezra sharing a cabin would place a strain on their relationship.

They had an easy silence as Kanan made his tea. Neither felt the need to talk just for the sake of it. Kanan was also letting Zeb decide if he wanted another person there or not for himself. He glanced around with his mug, feeling eyes on his back. Zeb was watching him.

"Couldn't sleep?" the Lasat asked after a moment.

"Not sure my body remembers what night-time is," he replied ruefully. "Woke up and thought it was morning. Turned out it's - what, middle of night-shift?"

"Yeah, 'bout that." He regarded the tea mournfully. "Frelling stewed leaves," he said gloomily. He really looked like he wanted a drink, and after the last few days, Kanan was right there with him. He made a "mrh" noise as he recalled something and set his tea down.

Zeb gave his back a questioning look as Kanan vanished and scratched at his ear. Either there was a prospect of a proper drink or Kanan had left his meditation on. He drained the last dregs of his tea and then eyed up the Jedi's abandoned cup thoughtfully.

Kanan returned as Zeb snatched his hand back from where he'd just started to reach for his cup. Zeb casually scratched his head, arm raised for totally innocent and non-larcenous reasons. Kanan was unbothered by this anyway as he picked up a couple of glasses and sat down, sliding a short, stout stoppered bottle across the table to him. Zeb arrested its slide with both hands, picking it up reverently.

"Lasan whiskey? Where did you pick this beauty up?" He sounded wondering, which well he might.

Kanan chuckled. "Remember Gryrwook on Nar Shadaa, about two months back? When he was flinging the contents of the bar at us, I had the choice of catching the Corellian Reserve or this. Or an Aldaraan white, but that didn't factor in."

"Jat'u had some good stuff behind that bar." He looked pained at the loss of the rare brandy. "Couldn't catch both?"

"Not without putting down my lightsaber, and his blaster was still a problem."

"Lost in good cause to save this. Saving it for a special occasion?" He broke the seal and unstoppered it, taking a sniff of one of many lost smells he'd taken for granted back when Lasan still lived.

Kanan shrugged. "Probably for Empire Day if we couldn't get to the city." He didn't elaborate. Zeb was hardly blind to that his friend tended to vanish on Empire Day and stay away if circumstances allowed. Hera had been disapproving and (oddly, he thought in the early days, before he'd joined the very short list of people who knew what Kanan had once been) concerned about the disappearances. It was also safe to say that Zeb hadn't been a particularly moderating influence once he'd started joining him. While Zeb had no personal links to Empire Day as a recurring point of the year, the Empire was still the malevolent force that had destroyed his world. The festivities of Empire Day celebrated the day the shadow rose that would swiftly engulf Lasan.

"Tried it once a long time ago, in a cantina somewhere in the Rim." Kanan added. "'Least, I might have. He wasn't above switching labels on his bottles."

"Bet it wasn't the real thing. Never is. Some cantina sleaze figures no-one's gonna know what it tastes like anyway, and pulls any drek from the shelf. _This_ is the real stuff. I'd say it'd put hair on your chest, but in your case, that'd be a little pointless." He smirked.

Kanan snorted. "I don't need a Lasat amount of hair anyway," he replied as Zeb poured a measure into his glass. As is traditional in these situations, both of them regarded the colour as if it particularly meant something (given the range of brewing techniques across the galaxy, it didn't particularly. But it was familiar to Zeb and Kanan was at least willing to appreciate it.).

"You've made me feel a lot better about being parsecs from the nearest cantina," said Zeb, tasting it. He closed his eyes contently, ears flattening at the rush of memories. Too many for any individual one to crystallise; just a blur of tastes and smells and sounds buried with Lasan. Even the sound of Lasat drinking, talking, laughing and just being alive in some watering hole in the capital. The galaxy would never hear it again, but for a moment he could.

Kanan tasted it curiously, letting Zeb enjoy it as he obviously was. Not as smoky as he'd expected. He was cautious with it, since he'd long ago learned that what humans considered enjoyable and what Deveronians or Twi'leks did could drastically diverge. As could what they considered "whiskey". No, this was definitely a whiskey, and one of those he preferred; neither too sweet nor smokey nor of the raft of planets that used various native grains he wasn't keen on. _Galaxy lost a good whiskey_ , he thought, right before a fireball lit up his tongue. _Argh, wait, what?_ Kanan swallowed the last of the deceptive stuff quickly, followed by half his cup of tea with rather too much speed for dignity, his eyes watering as _whatever that stuff was_ scorched its way down.

"Oh. Yeah, I guess it does that." Zeb showed no reaction to it, but looked like he was belatedly remembering why it should be easy to tell fake Lasan whiskey around the galaxy – the real thing had a kick like an angry nerf for unsuspecting humans.

"No wonder you were fine with the Kalleran firecheese! What do you put in it, fireworks?" Kanan, perhaps with more curiosity than sense, took another even more cautious sip. Either he was getting used to it or whatever local spice or lichen the Lasat had used to brew their form of whiskey had scorched all the nerves from his tongue, one or the other, but the second fireball was far more subdued.

Zeb picked up the bottle again and looked at the label. "Kadarak's Claws – Kadarak is the kick. Sort've lichen I think. Don't think it grew off Lasan."

They sat in companionable silence for a bit. Maybe it was because he was a bit suspicious of the stuff still, or maybe because he didn't want to risk even appearing inebriated if Ezra suddenly appeared or maybe because he no longer felt as much need to drown the Force-sense, but Kanan was several drinks behind Zeb, taking it slowly. Actually, apart from anything else, he'd been in a medcentre for three days and he rather needed his Force-sense to help keep up the passive healing that was clearing the last of the infection from his system. Kanan was lost in his own thoughts when Zeb spoke first.

"Before we left, you said not to interfere. What was that about? What were you expecting would happen?"

Kanan would have to be a lot less perceptive than he was to not see that Zeb was pushing towards whatever had pulled him out to the commissary in the middle of the night. As for the question…

"I wasn't exactly going off hard data or anything," he said after a moment. "Really just stories, since I didn't even know that this was possible. But the logical consequences of, say, your going back and changing something that killed me back then seemed really bad for getting you all back again."

"Plus all the stuff with what happened to the _Ghost_ crew if you hadn't joined the ship, or you and Hera hadn't met, yeah. Was that all of it?"

Kanan hesitated. "I don't… know," he said uneasily. "Yes, insofar as I can put words to it. But time travel just always goes _wrong_. And my instincts were saying to stay out of it. Too easy to set consequences in motion that can't be controlled." Like Sabine accidentally saving Maarje. He hadn't said that to upset her, but it had been the logical conclusion he'd reached. He wouldn't have been able to protect the kid – he _hadn't_ been able to protect her. In all likelihood, even without the Inquisitor's interference, they would both have died, whether on Kaller or on the next planet.

"Don't know that the consequences could have been any worse for Lasan," grunted Zeb. "Hard to get much worse than annihilated."

"Yeah." Thing was, he really couldn't argue with that. His instincts had told him that messing around with what had already happened was going to end badly. He wasn't quite sure if they were his own human instincts or the Force. And maybe he'd been wrong about it. But mostly he felt relief that things hadn't ended much worse, even if "much worse" was something he couldn't really define. But it was hard to get much worse than annihilated.

Zeb eyed him suspiciously. "You were mad with Sabine for what she did. Why aren't you mad with me?" he asked bluntly. Normally, the Lasat would have been absolutely fine not taking heat and certainly wouldn't have raised the topic, so the question startled the Jedi.

"..First of all, I'm not mad with Sabine. Alright, I was, but we sorted it by the end of the conversation. Secondly… mh, I don't know." He scratched his forehead. Yep, he'd dodged that incredibly clumsily and pretty much on reflex. _Man up, Kanan_. _You know, so admit it._

"If I'd been back there in the middle of it, despite my best intentions, I couldn't have stood back and watch Master Billaba die in front of me again. So yeah, it'd be hypocritical of me to be too mad about your attacking the man that annihilated your planet. Sabine… was a bit different."

Zeb grunted. The two survivors of different genocides regarded their glasses and drank the contents in silence for a bit.

"…Still don't know if I wish I hadn't done it or not."

Kanan looked over as the Lasat spoke, working the negatives in the sentence out as his thoughts returned to the present. Zeb shrugged, pouring more whiskey into their glasses.

"Hells, I don't know. On the one hand, why didn't I kill him? I'd gone that far, killed his mate, humiliated his troops. Maybe the next one wouldn't be so eager to use those damned weapons."

Zeb's pupils dilated as he referred obliquely to the ion disrupters that had caused such nightmarish carnage throughout his world.

"…And the thought that keeps coming to mind is what if killing his sergeant is what set him off this time 'round. Turns out I killed his brother or something." Zeb's ears flattened back as he rubbed at his face, keeping his expression hidden. "I'd even kriffin' said it was for Lasan."

Kanan stayed quiet for a bit, weighing up his reply.

"I've been thinking a bit about how things ended up. Things…ended up much the same. Tix still died, just at the hands of the Inquisitor instead. Maarje still died, just in Plateau City instead of the camp. Despite leaving a week early, I still met Kasmir, and things still roughly worked out the same. _Except you're not too sure about that, are you? There's an anomaly later on, after things had… resumed their normal course. And you keep trying not to think about it._ Kanan cleared his throat, shaking the thought off. "…The Empire destroyed Lasan the first time around, when you couldn't have affected Kallus beforehand. Kallus decided to do it for his own reasons. The same thing happened the second time around. If Kallus decided it this time because you killed his sergeant, it's only because it was _going to happen anyway_." The more he thought about all this, the more it creeped him the hell out. He was going to very determinedly forget all this ever happened as soon as he was reasonably sure they were all okay.

Zeb started to answer, but then frowned. "Is this some Jedi thing? Predetermined path and all that?"

Kanan blinked, having not actually extrapolated out of the period they'd affected. "Uh, no. Nah, I don't think much of the idea of predestination – it's not a Jedi thing anyway. But that _had_ already happened. It's not like us changing things now for the future."

"…So we got dicked over by the timeline because it wanted to get as close back to itself as possible?" Zeb summarised.

Kanan shrugged. "In the absence of any better theories, it sure feels like it. I … _frell_ , given what we do, I believe we can make a difference here and now. But my gut's saying there's nothing we could have done to significantly change what happened to the Jedi or Lasan. I don't really have any better than my gut though. But there's a …weird disconnect in some of my memories, like people were making decisions…so that things ended up as they are now rather than something else entirely." He shrugged again rather helplessly. It was a very peculiar feeling and difficult to put into words.

Zeb gave him a long look at that. "That's creepy, mate," he said finally and downed the drink. It was. And he was a bit concerned as to how much this was going to ultimately freak Kanan out. It was his head after all. They were all paying close attention to things having changed, but Zeb at least had no particular set of double memories. He had his own memories, and was conscious that some of them – like the _Phantom_ in hyperspace – no longer reflected reality. He could live with that – although whether he could live with reality being that he had indirectly sparked Kallus into using the ion disrupters was still another matter. If that was the case. Kanan's argument that while they were in a period that had already happened, certain key things were still going to happen to keep the timeline on track, was …sort of reassuring. And also really creepy.

"Yeah. You know, Kallus must have been really confused by it," said Kanan after a few moments. Hopefully not too soon…

Zeb snorted, not without some grim amusement. "…Yeah. An eight foot Lasat leaping onto a hoverbus and trying to kill him for something he hadn't done yet. He did look pretty surprised." He snorted again at the thought.

"Hey, in the city, was that you that shot out the holocaster?"

Kanan grinned. "Guilty. Although I didn't stick around to see what happened." He frowned. "Actually, it sounded like it was turning into a riot."

"Yeah, kinda did. The stormtroopers fired into the air to calm down the crowd and that worked as well as you'd expect. Don't think anyone was particularly injured though. Ezra nearly got carried off."

"And so my last act as a soldier of the Republic was inciting a riot," said Kanan sardonically.

Zeb smirked. "Damn right. And right as he was saying about spreading the Empire across the galaxy. I could feel the Kallerans weren't liking that at all even without knowing the lingo. Let's just say not everyone in the crowd disapproved of the message the holes in the wall and the broken holocaster sent."

"You know, there _was_ a riot in the city that day. I think it started further north though." Kanan shrugged. "To be honest, I'm just not going to think about it too much. It's …" He hunted for the word as he poured himself a top-up.

"Creepy. Glad we got the kriffin' Inquisitors. Bastards." It really did take a special sort of bastard to create a mess like this.

"Yeah. And two of them." Here was hoping that had weeded down their stock a bit. Although he'd mostly gotten beaten around and then pinned to the gate, so he hadn't exactly been a stellar contributor to that.

"Good thing you kept them busy long enough for us to have some fun. That was a hell of a shot Hera pulled on the pillar."

Kanan gave him a briefly sceptical _did you just read my mind_ look, but let it go. He smiled and if his smile had a fondness reserved only for the Twi'lek, Zeb wasn't going to comment. That there was _something_ between the ship captain and the Specter leader was the worst-kept secret on the ship. Even Ezra would probably notice at some point. Zeb, insofar as he was going to have any opinion at all, wished they'd just get on with it. (It was possible that there was some hopeful thoughts of Kanan moving into Hera's cabin and Zeb escaping into one of his own factoring into it.) But he respected that Hera had her captain/crew thing and it was possible Kanan had some Jedi thing. Although he suspected that Kanan would be quite happy to have something more than the current unspoken something with Hera. He had the feeling that Hera was the braking factor. The furthest he'd go into the subject, and even then, only to himself, was that he hoped if they did love each other, they wouldn't leave it too late and one or other regret it. Life was cheap in the Empire's galaxy and there weren't many outlaw elders. He realised his thoughts were meandering and came back to reconstruct Kanan's answer. Agreeing about the shot. Oh, and her gloating.

"Yeah. They always have to have the last word, don't they? All've them. Never just shoot you, it's always with the gloating." Zeb rolled his eyes.

"And long may it last, it gives us the chance to escape." Kanan grinned and tipped his glass towards Zeb. Zeb snorted but raised his glass in return.

"Yeah, to stupid bad guys."

Kanan paused. "Actually, seems a waste of the whiskey to toast Inquisitors. To Lasan."

Zeb nodded agreement. That was worth remembering. And the whiskey had helped him to remember things he'd forgotten, the more elusive things like sounds and smells. He raised his glass.

"To the Republic," he responded. And the time before the Empire. The Republic had had its problems, but it was mostly a neighbour that let them alone. People seemed mostly reasonably happy. And it had been his friend's home.

Kanan smiled and drank to that.

* * *

.

The _Ghost_ moved silently through space, slipping under radar and off screens unnoticed as its own sensors picked up the odd personal or trade vessel. Hera was in the pilot's seat, relaxing and watching the stars. Zeb and Kanan might think they were prenaturally alert (and in fairness, they usually were), but neither had seen Hera pass. Although despite their wariness of her, she wasn't going to interrupt. She'd known as well as Kanan had that Zeb was bothered and if they were sorting things out she wasn't going to interfere.

Hera feared there would be fallout as they stumbled over small changes – hopefully no large ones – as Kanan sorted his head out and decided how he was going to deal with what must undoubtedly be an incredibly weird and unsettling situation, and she was concerned about Zeb and possibly Ezra too. (At which point she may as well also be concerned about Sabine and have a full set.) But that was a problem for tomorrow. Tonight, the whole family was home on her ship and the _Ghost_ had a full fuel tank, heading for Lothal where they could all relax for a bit. Hera was still doing some processing of events and repercussions herself, but for now, she was content just with the knowledge that all her crew were safe.

Hera decided eventually that she really should take the opportunity to have a couple hours sleep. As she passed the common room she noticed it was empty again; presumably either they or their still-healing bodies had decided to be sensible and go to bed too. She entered her cabin without turning on the light and headed for the bed, although was surprised in the dark to touch paper and cloth where she was fairly sure there shouldn't be any such thing. The cloth felt familiar somehow. She did the logical thing and turned on the light.

There was a folded mass of brown material on the bed, although she couldn't immediately see the paper she'd touched. She picked up the bundle and shook it out, confused at it for a moment before it snapped into place as her wrap. It had obviously seen a lot of use after he'd left the planet. _Huh, he kept it_. It was long since past salvaging into anything that the Kanan she'd known for years would wear, but he'd kept it. There was the piece of paper, it had slipped off the wool. She picked it up, read it and laughed quietly. The note said simply;

 _Thanks. Canan Lind._

* * *

 _Well, and that's done! Thanks for the reviews, especially you guys that kept coming back! :D_

 _I had another notion, but it ended up fitting rather better into this set up than being a completely new story. Having said that, I'm having severe writer's block on chapter 6 (which got eaten by my laptop's imploding, after being a complete nightmare to get through anyway. So not sure what will happen about that. I left the opening to continue into the sequel in the end of this story anyway, so we'll see!_

* * *

 _I meant to respond to some of the points raised in reviews but forgot to do so on the last chapter!_

 _CalmSheJaguar - Thanks! Wasn't sure if I was making him tooo evuls but ah, he was a dick! With some very odd notions._

 _ruby throne - Zeb staying back would have caused all sorts of chaos, I think. He got all awkward once they got Canan away and started pointing out that he had no reason to go back and his planet was about to be destroyed, which was very difficult of him! I had to admit he had a point though.. Regarding Lasan, yeah, that was going to be a thing for him to regret. But overall, due to the ambiguity of what actually happened by the end, *probably* wasn't his fault. I blame him for the segue into whiskey making this chapter so long too :P_

 _Ithilwen: :D Glad to have helped inspire a happy dance! Always good for one's day. Not so long for the end of this one at least, it was basically written, just needed cleaning up for posting. Sorry for keeping it hanging so long, my laptop apparently really does not like me writing again :P_


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